


The Sound of Sleep

by Notinthemoodsoz



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), F/M, Marvel Universe, Pre-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Protective Steve, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:28:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 21,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29183289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notinthemoodsoz/pseuds/Notinthemoodsoz
Summary: After Ultron, Natasha is plagued with nightmares that just feel a little too real, but she refuses to tell anyone because she’s just too stubborn.When Steve finds her awake at ungodly hours he wants to help.After all, he might just know a thing or two about sleeping considering he kinda slept undisturbed for about 70 years.
Relationships: Bruce Banner/Natasha Romanov, Capwidow, Natasha Romanoff/ Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers/ Natasha Romanoff, Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov, romanogers, stevenat
Comments: 50
Kudos: 164





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own ANY of these characters. All these characters belong to Marvel.  
> This takes place just after Avengers: Age of Ultron :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prologue:  
> Natasha

She tells herself for days that she’s just being stubborn.  
After all, Natasha’s known for being stubborn.  
But every time she finally wakes up, she just feels weak.   
  
_Weak.  
_  
 _Weak.  
_  
 _Weak.  
_  
The word makes her flinch. She’s been admitting defeat a lot lately and she doesn’t like it.

Natasha’s been in countless dangerous and terrifying situations.  
Hell, her whole life could be considered one big dangerous and terrifying situation. But she doesn’t see it that way. It’s just the norm.   
No matter how dangerous it gets, she never backs down.  
She’s not sure if she has it in her. 

She doesn’t even hesitate when she’s asked to infiltrate a government or save a city from extraterrestrial beings.  
For her, danger has become a habit, and habits are awfully difficult to break. 

And as for the terrifying part, fear is something she had to get over a very long time ago.   
So long ago that although she feels it blossom deep in her belly or wrap around her nerves leaving a slight tremble in her finger tips, her body won’t recognize it as fear anymore. She feels it everywhere but it only fuels her.  
She only sees it as a sign that she’s ready to fight again.  
And she’s always up for a fight.   
  
This is different though.

The fear wraps and curls around her, strangling each nerve, making her eyes twitch and her legs feel wobbly, but there’s nothing there for her to fight.  
She can’t punch it or kick it or strangle it or even put a goddamn bullet through it because it’s not even real.

It’s just a dream.  
And she’s terrified of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi this is my first story so please feel free to leave any feedback/criticism/notes in the comments.  
> Thank you :)  
> N.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Here is the first full chapter :)

Wanda Maximoff got inside everyone’s heads, and Natasha knows that’s where it began.   
It was like she broke into their skulls and pulled at the cords of their brains, planted a hallucination there that took each of them far away, made them useless, invalid.   
For Natasha, Wanda had dug up the past, twisted it and let it explode back in her face in a blurry red sequence of memories that were tampered with and terrifying. 

Natasha hadn’t spoken to the others about it but she knew they felt as shit as she did.   
Their eyes were cloudy on the jet, like they were somewhere else still.  
She saw Bruce’s eyes first, misty with guilt after losing control.  
Thor’s were foggy with fear, an unnerving sight.  
And Steve’s, she swears she saw his eyes swimming in regret, loss.   
She remembers her own eyes, wide and unblinking suddenly filled with tears as she stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror at Clint and Laura’s farm house.  
She watched the tears leak over her bottom lashes, slide down her cheeks and hang on her jawline before slipping down her neck. 

She slowly blew the air out of her lungs supporting her body weight against the sink. But when she shut her eyes the backs of her eyelids betrayed her.   
They replayed visions of little girls with no mouths, blurry faces staring at her with a bullets in their foreheads, and a pair of feet bloody and blistering from ballet slippers.

Her eyes flew open and she felt nauseous. Dizzy.   
She released her grip on the sink, slipped sideways and vomited into the toilet bowl.

***

The events of Sokovia and Ultron left a mark on everyone. She’s sure every Avenger tossed and turned all night when they got back.

Wanda had cried herself to sleep, Natasha knows because she was there.   
  
Although Natasha blamed the girl for her constant headache and lack of sleep after she got in her head and tampered with it with supernatural abilities Natasha could hardly comprehend, she knew Wanda had just lost everything, and she didn’t want her to be alone.

And Natasha needed a distraction.

She had offered to sit with her in her room once she was settled but Wanda refused, so, naturally, Natasha just sat outside on the floor against the wall.   
  
She listened to Wanda sob and sniffle for about an hour until it ceased and she heard only the soft sounds of restless sleep float up through the cracks of the door frame.

Reluctantly, she made her way to her own room then.   
She lay on her bed, windows open in hopes that fresh air would drift in around the room and out again taking her headache with it.  
It was no use though because her headache sprouted from lack of sleep but Natasha was too stubborn to close her eyes.

She stared at the ceiling for so long but exhaustion won.   
She didn’t try to stop herself when her eyes fluttered shut and her mind slipped into sleep.

Rookie mistake.

***

Natasha woke just before she put a bullet through the little girls head.  
She was sweaty and she was crying and she just felt so weak.

They screamed at her as she held the gun, fingers trembling, hands bloody.

_Weak._  
_Weak._  
_Weak._

The little girl had no mouth. She couldn’t scream, but her eyes swam with tears and terror. She was scared of Natasha, of the gun.  
The others still screamed at her.

_Weak._  
_Weak._  
_Weak._

When she finally sat up in her bed the windows were still open but it wasn’t cold enough.  
It didn’t feel like it was over.   
She was so sweaty.

Natasha tumbled to the bathroom and splashed water on her face.   
It wasn’t enough.  
Her brain felt fuzzy.

She remembered then that there had been blood on her.  
She scrubbed at her hands in the sink but there was too much blood and it wouldn’t come off.  
It stuck to her hands like red gloves, clung to her face like red paint.  
Her feet ached from the ballet slippers, the blisters felt hot and sore.

She turned on the shower and stood under it scrubbing her hands and her feet and her face and tried to get rid of the blood. 

She couldn’t stop crying, she thought she might vomit again.  
Everything was so blurry.  
She felt so Dizzy.

  
When she finally rubbed her eyes it was like waking from a dream. 

She stopped to look at her hands and down at herself.  
She stood in the shower, still in her clothes, soaking wet.  
The shower was cold, she was trembling.  
Her breathing was ragged, she felt exhausted but she was wide awake again, everything in focus.  
  
There was no blood anywhere.  
Not in the shower, the sink, on her hands, anywhere.

Her feet were freezing cold under the shower.  
No blisters in sight.

She thought she was going insane.  
It felt so real.

Had she screamed? She couldn’t remember.  
She hoped no one had heard her.   
She remembered how she could hear Wanda through her bedroom door earlier.   
She couldn’t let anyone see her like this, a complete mess.

This became routine every night. 

She would lie awake, try to distract herself by reading files or books, staying up with everyone in the kitchen until she was the last one standing.   
But then she would let herself fall by accident.

She’d lay her head on the pillow and leak through the cracks between consciousness and slumber, only to wake up blurry and sweaty and a total mess.

She’d scrub at her hands and soak herself in the cold shower until she came to her senses, then she’d sit on the bathroom floor, a pathetic mess.

  
Each night it felt a little more real.

It was always the ballet slippers, the bloody feet, the blood on her hands, the screaming, the gun and a stranger. At first it was the little girl, but she was replaced each time.  
Once it was an older woman and then a young man.

But sometimes she held the gun to something a little more personal.

One night it was Clint.  
  
Another it was Bruce.

She couldn’t do it, so they just screamed at her.

_Weak._  
_Weak._  
_Weak._

She’d sit on the bathroom floor soaking wet every night, her hands trembling where she gripped the gun.   
So pathetic. 

_Weak._

She started to believe them.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve’s in this one , don’t worry :)

It’s been over a week since Ultron, over a week since she stood on Sokovia floating in the sky, and over a week since she last had a full night of sleep.

She gets a few hours here and there, but each time it’s the same, she can’t get a break from it.  
She tried sleeping during the day, going to sleep earlier than she used to, but nothing can stop them.  
Each time she wakes up like she’s lost her mind.

She likes to tell herself that maybe she doesn’t really need sleep, maybe she doesn’t have to face the dream again because maybe she’s stronger than it.

This is not the case.

Every night she admits defeat.  
She’s not a big fan of dying from exhaustion.  
She just has to deal with it.

Dreams like this fade, she’s sure.

She’ll get over them eventually, just like everything else.

***

Things are relatively normal at the new Avengers facility.  
People are still shaky from Sokovia but they’re coming around.  
She and Steve have taken on the new recruits slowly, giving Wanda time and space, and introducing the others to the training facilities.

But bringing in new recruits and letting a city fly into the sky with civilians still on it comes with a hell of a lot of paperwork.

Natasha groans as Steve hands her some more files and reports to fill out.  
He chuckles, and she frowns up at him from her spot on the sofa.  
He gestures towards the files in her lap before meeting her eyes. “Come on Romanoff. Get these done and you’re off the hook for today.”  
His blue eyes soft with fun falter slightly as he meets her tired green gaze. His grin slips a little from his face, replaced by a sad, tight-lipped smile.

He sits beside her on the sofa then, elbows on his knees, and tilts his head in her direction.  
He has his own reports rolled up between his hands as he fiddles with the pages.  
He looks straight at her.  
“You doing okay Nat?”

The question is simple, but she’s unsure why he’s asking, and she’s unsure how to answer.  
She’s been better, that’s for sure, but she doesn’t think Steve has ever looked at her with such sad eyes, and so much has happened the last week that she can’t decide what he might be referring to.  
He searches her face, and she realizes she’s taking too long so she shrugs and smirks at him lamely, trying to lighten the mood.  
“Just a little tired Cap, nothing to worry about.”  
Understatement of the year.  
He just nods.

She remembers the dark circles under her eyes. She’d come to her senses again at about 4:30am this morning after letting herself fall into her nightmare some time after 2am.  
She’s been awake since.  
She smudged concealer and powder beneath her eyes before she saw anyone this morning, but now after a groggy gym session and the shower she had about an hour ago, they’re on full display again.

Steve looks down at the files in his hands.

“You know, if you ever need to talk about it or, I mean, if you ever want to talk about him, you can talk to me Nat. I’m not the best with that stuff but if you just need to get it off your-“

Natasha frowns, her heart sinks a little as he speaks, she knows exactly what he’s talking about but she cuts him off and asks anyways.  
“You mean Bruce?”

He doesn’t answer her, just looks back up at her face, not exactly meeting her in the eyes.  
She shrugs again and stares down at the file in her lap.  
She’s so tired.

The truth was she didn’t have much to get off her chest about Bruce. She asked Tony if he had heard of any trace of the Quinjet but his answer was always the same.  
“Sorry Romanoff”.

Sometimes when she lay in bed at night reading, or sat in the kitchen by herself trying to stay awake, her thoughts would drift to Bruce.  
Although it hurt a lot, Natasha just felt foolish.  
Putting her feelings on the line and opening up to someone was something she’d sworn she’d never do in the past, and now, being let down and left alone, she can’t help but wonder if love really is for children.

Of course she is concerned about Bruce, just like Steve probably is, and Tony, and Clint and everyone.  
After all, he is her friend, and she has no idea if he’s even alive, and that fact eats at her more than her own silly feelings she once had.

She just wants to put all that childish stuff behind her.

And never let it happen again.

Besides, she has other things to deal with, and trying to comprehend that the Green guy is somewhere in space on a Quinjet is a step too far for her exhausted brain.

She knows Steve is aware of her half-assed attempt to fall in love with someone, and he probably assumes the dark circles beneath her eyes are from the hours she spends awake at night alone with her broken heart.

That thought makes her cringe.  
She hopes he doesn’t actually think that.  
It’s so childish.  
_Weak._

Steve doesn’t press her for any other answers, and asks no more questions.  
He just leans back against the sofa, flicking through the pages in his hands.

She likes this about Steve.  
He knows what people need to hear, but also what they don’t.  
He also knows that Natasha doesn’t want to talk about this anymore.   
So they don’t.   
He’s good at reading her.

They fall into comfortable silence as she works through her last file.  
Her eyes struggle across the page, the words and numbers scramble together.  
She loses all hope when she reads the same page twice by accident.

She feels Steve glance at her a couple of times.  
He seems frustrated, distracted.  
He’s chewing at his fingernail like he’s thinking a lot.

Steve worries about things sometimes, only small, stupid things, but his worry is contagious, it puts Natasha on edge.

He always ignores her when she tells him that worrying won’t change anything and that it’s unnecessary.  
She wants to tell him again, but she knows it’s no use, he’ll worry either way.

Right now, he’s worried about her, she can tell.

The crease that formed between his eyebrows gave it away the second he looked at her.  
She’s good at reading him too.

She realizes she’s been very quiet lately, maybe that concerns him a little bit.  
She’s just exhausted.

She wants to tell him then about the nightmares.  
But she’d only worry him more.

And anyways, telling Captain America you’re having bad dreams sounds even more childish than falling in love.

So she doesn’t tell him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve got a Steve chapter coming up next!  
> Please leave any feedback  
> N.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve

Steve Rogers is not really the type to stick his nose in other peoples personal business.   
But sometimes, he can’t help but wish that he could get just a _little_ more information out of people.  


By people he means Natasha.

On missions, Steve has strategies that usually work a charm when gathering information.   
Like a head lock, or pushing people off rooftops only to have Sam scoop them up before they hit the ground.   
When they land back at his feet, everything  he needs practically spews from their mouths.

When adrenaline loosens him up and there’s lives at stake he’s not concerned about the culprit that’s holding information from him, he’ll do anything to get it out of them.

But he _obviously_ knows these strategies are no way to deal with a colleague.   
A friend?

_ “Well there’s a chance you might be in the wrong business Rogers...” _

He considers Natasha a friend, just like Sam, or Tony.  
And he’d like to think that she might consider him one too.

The lines are blurry there though.   
  
Steve knows that friends share things, they confide in each other, they support each other.

Maybe Natasha just doesn’t really work like that. 

Sure, they support each other in the field. They’re a good team, he’s known that since they took down SHIELD and Project Insight almost a year ago.   
And now they’re training brand new Avengers together.   
He trusts her, sometimes more than the others, but she always keeps things from him.  
Then again, Natasha keeps things from everyone.   
He reminds himself that she is a spy after all, and that’s just how she rolls.   
But it still worries him.

Natasha hates it when Steve worries.  
And honestly, he does too.   
But he can’t help it.

He _knows_ that dwelling on things is unnecessary, Natasha tells him this all the time. She also tells him that it’s silly because Steve _only_ worries about stupid things.

But Natasha’s not a stupid thing.  
And yet he worries about her constantly.

  
***

It’s a Saturday night and Steve’s keeping Wanda company. 

She’s had a rough week, far worse than the rest of them.   
Her home was destroyed, she buried her brother, and she’s now in a strange country where everything is different. 

Steve watches her as she eats a bowl of cereal across from him at the kitchen counter.   
She’s so young. 

  
He remembers when she got in his head.

It felt so real. 

A sick, twisted reminder that he is just a man completely out of his time.

He walked into a scene of celebration.   
But everything made him flinch, it was too loud, the camera flashes were too bright.   
People danced and laughed, they were happy, but Steve felt as though they were mocking him.

He felt her presence before he saw her, and it broke his heart a little.

_“The war’s over Steve. We can go home...”_

Peggy.

_“...imagine it.”_

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t imagine it.

Steve can’t go home.   
He lost that life a long time ago.   
He’s not even sure if there is a home for him anymore.   
He can’t go back to something he lost over 70 years ago. 

And even though it hurt him more than anything, he’s slowly come to terms with it.  
He has no other choice.

He didn’t tell anyone about what he saw.   
But he assumed they could give a good guess.  


_God’s Righteous Man._   
_Pretending you can live without a war._

Sam had decided to go out, leaving only Steve, Wanda, Vision and Natasha at the facility tonight.

He tells Steve he should come out for the experience, but of course, he refuses. 

Night life is very different now compared to his time.   
His excuse tonight is that he can’t dance, but that’s always his excuse. 

Sam only chuckles and pats him on the shoulder.

“Okay Grandpa, maybe next time yeah?”

Wanda lets out a small laugh at that.

Steve plays cards with Wanda when Sam leaves.  
She beats him four times before she decides to hit the hay.   
She just shrugs at him.   
“Beginners luck I guess.”

When she leaves, he moves from his stool at the kitchen counter over to the sofa to sketch.

The serum means he doesn’t need much sleep, so he often sketches at night to pass some time.

He doesn’t pay much attention to what he’s drawing. They’re just doodles.  
He practices eyes, then faces, focusing on trying to perfect his technique until his eyelids grow weak and the marks on the page grow sloppy.

  
When he wakes his sketchbook lays open face down on his chest, his pencils probably scattered across the floor beneath him. 

It’s still dark out but he hears movement in the facility. 

Sam’s probably back.   
And he’s probably going straight to bed.

Steve debates getting up and going to his own room, but the sofa’s surprisingly comfortable, so he stays and shuts his eyes again.

He jumps when the glass shatters on the kitchen floor a few meters from him.  
The sound bounces off the walls of the facility and around Steve’s skull.   
He sits up quickly, alert but groggy.

He squints against the darkness as he looks over the back of the couch.   
He assumes it’s Sam, looking for a glass of water.

“Sam? What are you doing man, are you okay?”

But whoever is in the kitchen was not aware of Steve’s presence because he hears a gasp.

“Oh my _god_! Steve?”

That’s not Sam.   
Steve presses his fingers against his eyes and tries to rub the last bit of sleep out of them.

 _ “Nat?”  
  
_He turns slightly and flicks the lamp on beside him. _  
_

It barely illuminates the big open space but he can see her now, standing behind the kitchen counter, the cabinets open above her head.

“Shit I’m sorry Steve I didn’t mean to wake you, I didn’t even know you were out here.”

He pushes himself up off the couch as she mutters her apology. She sounds tired, her voice is raspy, deeper than usual.   
He glances at the digital clock above the oven as he approaches her.

_4:17am_.

“Gosh it’s early Nat, what are you-“ 

She doesn’t let him finish.   
  
“Look, it’s okay I’ll clear it up, sorry for waking you.”

But Steve still cautiously makes his way around the counter to meet her, scanning the floor before he finally takes in the scene in front of him.

Natasha stands barefoot by the broken glass on the floor.   
She supports her body weight against the counter like she’s afraid she’ll drop at any second.   
She won’t meet his eyes, but Steve can tell she’s completely drained, her face is pale.

He wants to ask her if she’s okay, but stops himself when he spots the glass bottle held loosely at her side.

Vodka.

She doesn’t even try to hide it from him.   
He steps closer to her.

“Are you _drinking_?”  
  
He doesn’t mean for it to sound like a scorn, but it doesn’t matter because Natasha doesn’t seem to take much notice anyway.   
She looks down at the bottle in her hand.

“Well, I haven’t started yet if you want to join me Cap.”

”At 4am?”

She pulls the bottle up and slams it on the counter beside her, Steve’s surprised it doesn’t shatter like the glass on the floor.   
She just laughs a little, then bends over and starts scooping the glass up off the ground with her bare hands.

Steve watches in complete bewilderment.   
The glass sinks into her fingers and her palms but she hardly flinches. 

Is she crazy?  
He grabs her arm.

“Natasha stop! Are you _insane_?”

She looks up at him then and he can finally see her eyes.  
Dark circles are smudged beneath them like shadows.   
She looks worn out, and ashamed.

When she answers him it’s barely a whisper.

”I think I might be.”   


She stares blankly at him for a second before yanking her arm away from him and making her way to the trash can. She lets the glass shards fall from her hands and then picks the rest of the pieces out of her raw, bloody palms. 

Steve just stares at her.   
He’s not sure what to do.

“Sorry for waking you”

Her voice is quiet and hoarse.   
She grabs the bottle from the counter and a new glass from the cabinet above her.  
She doesn’t look at him once as she leaves.

Steve’s addled.  
The sky is still dark outside, but he’s not tired anymore.   
  
So he goes after her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh
> 
> Feel free to leave any notes/feedback in the comments :)  
> N.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha

Natasha feels like she’s running on a battery that’s been worn down to about two percent of its charge. 

Her head hurts so bad that her thoughts trip over each other.   
She feels drunk, but she hasn’t even started drinking yet.  
Her hands sting, there’s definitely still glass stuck in them.

She’s back in her room again and she knows she should sleep.   
Sleep will charge her battery.  
But every single time she closes her eyes her mind screams at her

_ Don’t do it. _   
_ Don’t be Weak. _

That’s why she’s awake at 4 am with a bottle of vodka clutched in her hand.   
  
Natasha didn’t really want to drink at first.  
She surmised that drinking would only make things worse.   
But she’s running out of options and it’s the only thing she hasn’t tried yet.   
She _needs_ rest, and getting black out drunk might just keep the demons at bay.

She fills her glass in the bathroom, downs it like it’s water and then stares at herself in the mirror.  
She doesn’t even squirm as the booze slides down her throat like hot, liquid ash.  
So she goes again.

She pretends she can’t hear Steve knocking softly at her door and calling her name from the other side.  
Once she’s finished her third glass, she leans against the door to listen to him.

His voice is quiet, but she can make out his words.   
  
“Nat please... I know you’re awake... 

_I’m worried about you_.”

God she hates herself. 

Steve is the last person she wants to be vulnerable around, but she completely lost it in front of him.  
They’re supposed to be strong, keep things together and lead the Avengers.  
But Natasha’s losing it.   
And Steve’s witnessed it first hand.

Her brain, in its weary state, cannot come up with a good enough excuse for why she’s drinking at 4am with glass stuck in her hands, so she doesn’t open the door for him.   
She refuses to humiliate herself any further.   
  
The liquor hits fast and she feels herself relax slightly.   
She slides down the door and let’s her head fall back against it.  
There’s a thud but she doesn’t feel it.  
  
”Natasha?”

She doesn’t say anything.   
  
  
*** 

When Natasha was in the Red Room they told her she was unbreakable.

_“You are made of marble.”_

But when she comes back to her senses lying on the cold wet floor of the bathroom, she feels broken.

She either fell asleep or blacked out, she wasn’t sure of anything, only that this time it must have been much worse.

The booze had helped to fog her dreams but for some reason, not remembering made her feel so much worse.   
Although the night feels blurry, she can tell what happened, the aftermath of her dreams often looks like this, except the taps and the shower are still running, water pools on the floor beneath her, and the mirror is broken, some fragments of its reflective surface lie across the floor beside her, the rest on the counter top or barely hanging on to the wall.   
The bruises forming on the side of her fists tell her she was the one who broke the mirror.   
She almost laughs.

_Here’s seven years bad luck for you as if your life isn’t chaos already._

Natasha pulls herself up off the floor and her body aches. She turns off all the water before she leans back against the sink and sighs.

“Ms. Romanoff-“

She jumps at the familiar voice of J.A.R.V.I.S. that used to interrupt everyone constantly at the old Avengers tower.  
Only now the voice comes with a body, and he’s stood at her bathroom door as Tony’s Vision.  
Natasha’s hand goes to her heart.

“Jesus, you scared-“

“I’m sorry for intruding Ms.Romanoff. I am aware that I am not supposed to interfere with you in your private room, however, it’s been many hours since anyone has seen you. I am only intruding as a precaution and to make sure you are still responsive. Captain Rogers is concerned and he was unable to reach you.”

Natasha’s eyebrows knit together.  
“How long was I out?”

Vision tilts his head.   
“I’m afraid I don’t understand-“

“What time is it?”

“6:39 pm. It has been approximately 14 hours and 22 minutes since you’ve last been seen by a resident at this facility.”

_14 hours?_  
Natasha’s not sure if she’s ever slept for that long.   
However she definitely wasn’t sleeping like a regular person, she’d feel rested if that was the case, not like someone is smashing her skull in with a hammer.

”Well I am in fact responsive, so you can tell Rogers that I’m fine and that he should stop worrying so much.”

***

So that’s it.   
She’s never going to get over this, she’s tried everything.   
They win.

Natasha doesn’t go for breakfast, it’s almost 7pm after all.  
Anger courses through her veins, she feels like she could scream.   
She’s so pathetic.   
_Weak_.

She storms out of her room and goes straight to the gym.  
Her legs wobble and her body hurts, but she doesn’t care.   
She needs to prove to herself and to _them_ that she’s not weak.

It’s a Sunday night so the gym is empty.  
She wraps her knuckles, but they scream with pain. There’s still glass from the morning stuck in between her fingers. Tears spring to her eyes. 

_ Stop it.   
_ _Don’t be weak_.   


She discards them and goes straight to a punching bag that hangs at the back of the gym.  
Natasha knows that Steve is the one who uses these most, he bursts about two or three a day. Tony’s designed ones for him that are almost indestructible, offering him more training time. But apparently Steve’s been bursting the bags since he came out of the ice and refuses to switch to the new models.

Natasha faces it with her fists up, both feet parallel and her right heel slightly up off the ground.   
She hits it once, twice, three times before the tears leak out of her eyes. Her hands shake, they’ve been through way too much the past twenty four hours, but she doesn’t quit, just shuts her eyes to try brace herself for the ripple of pain in her knuckles each time.   
She throws more hits until her hands grow numb.  
Her mind screams at her.

_Weak_.

The images start flashing before her in a red sequence.   
Little girls with no mouths, her bloody hands, blurry faces with bullets between their eyes, bloody footprints from ballet slippers.   
But then it grows quiet, and she’s stood facing a figure tied to a chair with a sack over his head.   
She points a gun at him.

_ “You’re made of marble Natalia” _

Natasha shakes her head   
“No”

 _“Natalia, you are unbreakable.”  
_ It’s like a whisper.

Natasha sobs.  
“I won’t do it.”

So they scream at her again.

_Weak_.

“Stop it.” 

_Weak_.

“Please”

_Weak_.

She screams.  
“I’m not weak!”

And then she pulls the trigger.

The gun feels real, sending a wave of force through her whole body, she jolts back slightly then finally opens her eyes.

The punching bag droops and swings from the ceiling.   
Sand gushes out, it’s been pierced open by a bullet.

Her bullet.

The gun feels heavy in her hand then, her knuckles are white as she grips it firmly with both hands.   
Her eyes go wide and she drops it to the floor like it’s infected.   
What has she done?   
She glances around her and sees the weapons store room is open.   
In her dream-state she’d opened it and pulled out a gun for herself.

She whispers under her breath.   
“Oh my god, no”

Her hands go to the sides of her face.  
“No, no, no.”

She’s not just weak anymore.  
She’s become dangerous.

Her whole body shakes.   
Her legs feel like they’ll give out from under her so she goes to the nearest wall and slumps against it, sliding down until she hits the floor.  
She pushes the heels of her hands into her eyes and just lets herself cry.

The images start to swallow her up again but Natasha doesn’t stop them this time.   
Maybe she’ll just let them devour her fully and never come back.  
What’s the point?  
She doesn’t know how she’ll cope with herself if she has to go on like this.

The images race around her skull making her breathing ragged and her eyes burn.  
She feels them consume her slowly until she loses grip of reality and falls under them fully again.

Everywhere hurts, until it doesn’t.

It starts in the middle of her forehead, the soothing press of a cool hand against her clammy skin.   
It tingles slightly and her dreams fade completely.

“Nat...” 

Then there’s a hand in hers and it feels like she’s being pulled up out of deep water, relief wraps around her as she comes back to her senses.   
She opens her eyes to see two blue ones staring right at her.

“Hey Nat.”

Steve’s crouched in front of her.  
Concern swims in his eyes and knots through his eyebrows but he still manages to smile at her gently.

_ How did he..? _

“You know, I consider shooting the punching bag as cheating.”

Natasha looks around her, she’s still in the gym slumped against the wall but it’s fully dark out now.   
Steve must have found her here.

Her eyebrows knit together and her lips part in confusion.   
She feels groggy.

”How did you do that?”   
Her voice is hoarse.   
  
Steve doesn’t understand what she means.

“Do what?” 

Natasha doesn’t say anything.   
His hand is still in hers and he traces the bruises on her fists softly with his thumb.   
She tries to match her breathing with the way he moves it over her knuckles.

_Up and down._

_In and out.  
  
_He stares at her expectantly for a while but then tugs her hands slightly when she doesn’t answer him. _  
_

”Nat, what’s going on?”

But when he tugs her hand he hits a piece of glass that’s still embedded in her skin which causes her to take in a sharp breath.   
He pulls back slightly but then turns her hands over so he can see her palms.

”You’ve got to get these out”

His thumb brushes gently over her raw, tender skin.  
Natasha’s surprised he doesn’t mention the reason there’s glass stuck in her hands in the first place.   
He just studies her hands before hooking his own hands around her elbows and hoisting her up off the ground. 

“Come on, I’ll help.”

Steve only keeps one hand on her, lightly holding her elbow as they walk, but somehow it’s enough to ground Natasha completely.   
They’re silent.   
Natasha’s unasked question still hangs in her head and she asks it over and over again, just not out loud.

_How did you make them go away?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait for this one (if you were waiting lol).  
> Thanks so much for any comments and kudos as well, they really make writing this so much more enjoyable :)  
> I’ve got a Steve chapter coming up next.  
> N.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve

When they reach the kitchen, Steve gets to work right away.  
Natasha soaks her hands gently in soapy water, while Steve cleans a pair of tweezers with rubbing alcohol.  
He asks her to sit on the stool by the counter with her palms up, and she does.  
They’re both silent as he works but Steve can see Natasha squirm ever so slightly as he digs at her skin.

Steve is concerned about a great many things at this moment, but despite how strange the last twenty four hours has been, Natasha being this quiet for this long is the thing he’s most concerned about.  
It’s unusual to be in the same room as Natasha without receiving a smart retort or even a sarcastic comment.  
The Natasha everyone knows is stubborn and feisty, she doesn’t just sit quietly and nod along all day.  
Steve wants to know what happened to her.

She looks exhausted and beat.  
Her eyes are puffy and dark, but Steve remembers the light and relief that washed over them when she opened her eyes after he found her in the gym.  
That had made him smile slightly.  
For the first time in days Natasha didn’t look so lost, she looked present and a little more alive.  
But the light and relief quickly turned to uncertainty and exhaustion in a matter of seconds, and they’ve stayed the same since.

When Steve’s sure he’s got as much glass out has he can, he rubs his palm softly across hers before she drops both her hands into her lap. Steve looks up and she’s already staring at him. It’s a blank stare, knotted with the same exhaustion, but Steve sees the tiniest bit of that light from earlier spark in her green eyes when he meets them.

He puts the tweezers down on the counter before he leans back against it with his arms crossed.

He speaks softly to her.  
“Nat, what’s going on?” 

Natasha stares at him a little longer before sighing like she’s been defeated. Her eyes dart away from his, she focuses on the bruises on her fists instead.   
She’s hesitant to answer him, he can tell by the way she fidgets. Natasha never fidgets.   
He’s never seen her so uncomfortable. 

When she finally speaks, it’s in a low voice.   
“I’m having trouble sleeping.” 

The image of her slumped on the gym floor looking very much asleep crosses Steve’s mind. But then, so do the images of her red eyes, dark under circles, shaky fingers.   
It makes sense, but he knows there’s more, so he presses further.

“When I found you in the gym you were asleep Nat.” 

She looks up at him again, this time she looks annoyed, like she’s already tired of answering his questions, but Steve needs to know the truth.

“What’s really going on?” 

Natasha focuses on her hands again, when she speaks it’s barely above a whisper.

“It’s not really falling asleep I have trouble with. It’s my dreams. They’re like hallucinations, they feel so real, just like that day Wanda got into our heads. And... I don’t know, I guess I’m just avoiding sleep now, I’m trying to distract myself, but now I’m just so goddamn tired and-“ 

She stops herself and sighs, her lower lip trembles ever so slightly and it tugs at Steve’s heart a little, but as soon as it starts, it stops again.  
It’s like walls shoot up around her again and she looks Steve dead in the face like she didn’t just almost admit to being afraid of something for once.

“But I’ll be fine Steve. It’s stupid really, I’ve tried everything, I should be over them by now.”

She waves it off like it’s nothing to worry about, but Steve knows it’s far more than that. Natasha is one of the strongest people he knows, she’s not one to cower in the face of anything. So if these dreams are keeping her awake at night in fear, then this is serious.  
Steve wants to know more, he wants to help so badly, he’s not sure why but he’s so worried about her.

 _It’s what friends do._

Right. 

However, it’s clear that he’s not going to get anything else out of her, so he just nods.   
But he can’t let her go now, he can’t let her be alone.   
So after a moment of silence, he offers her a small solution. 

“You know, if you’re trying to stay awake, you can stay up with me. The serum means I don’t need much sleep so I just hang around here mostly. We can keep each other company... only if you want to.”

Natasha takes a moment to chew on his words. She seems hesitant at first, and Steve’s worried she’ll decline, but then she raises an eyebrow at him and a small smirk pulls ever so slightly at her lips.

“You want to stay up all night like little girls at a slumber party Rogers?”

There she is.

He laughs. Somehow the room feels a little less dull now.

“Sure I do.”

  
***

“So, what do you do out here for most of the night?”

Steve glances behind him from his spot on the sofa. Natasha’s returned, the sweet smell of vanilla and fresh clothes spreads around the room, telling him she’s showered and changed.   
She seems a little more relaxed in sweat pants and a long black tank top, but Steve can still make out the shadows beneath her eyes from miles away. 

He shrugs at her.

“Sketching mostly, or catching up on more films I’ve missed from the past seventy years.”

Natasha sits on the other end of the couch and curls her legs up under her.

“Can I see?”  
  
She gestures towards his sketchbook laying on the coffee table in front of them.  
Steve doesn’t necessarily enjoy people looking at his work. It’s just a hobby for him, a way to pass time, so he doesn’t like the thought of it being judged. But Natasha let her guard down for Steve today, only a little, but still, he didn’t judge her. Steve’s sure she won’t judge him when he lets his guard down and lets her see his work.  
So he nods and hands it over to her.

He watches her face as she studies his pages.  
Her eyes light up and she marvels at his sketches, a smile tugs at her lips every now and then when she sees something she particularly likes.

There’s nothing amazing in there, just studies of human figures, faces, animals, a couple of landscapes...

“Hey there’s Leo.” 

Natasha smiles and tilts the sketchbook towards him. Steve laughs at a sketch that does look very like Leonardo DiCaprio’s face. He has a habit of drawing people from movies he watches.

“Yeah, I watched Titanic a couple of nights ago, then last night I was drawing faces and I guess I drew him from memory.” 

Natasha closes the sketchbook and places it back on the coffee table. She raises her eyebrows in surprise. 

“That’s actually really impressive Rogers.” 

Steve raises an eyebrow in mockery.

“ _Actually_?”

Natasha laughs.

“No, I just mean that I knew you could draw, but I guess I never knew you were _this_ good.”

Steve feels a blush creep up his neck. He doesn’t really show his work to anyone, so therefore he doesn’t really receive any praise for it.   
But he decides he likes it.

“Nah they’re just doodles, nothing special.”

Natasha rolls her eyes at him.

“Oh don’t be modest, seriously Steve, these are great.”

They fall into easy conversation then and Steve realizes that this is the first time in a long time that he’s actually talked to Natasha like this.  
He also realizes that he’s missed her. 

She hasn’t been around the place much since Ultron, only to fill out reports and read files.   
She was distant with everyone, spending a lot of time by herself.  
Steve wasn’t sure why, but he had assumed it had to do with Banner, so he left her alone. And although he’s still unsure about where her head is at with that, he knows she was struggling with other things too.  
  
It’s nice to just talk to her.

They don’t talk about her dreams.  
Even though Steve aches to ask her more about them and help her out, he doesn’t dare bring them up again.   
He doesn’t want to ruin this time with her.  
It’s like they’re just two normal people talking about normal things.

As the time passes, Natasha’s eyes grow even darker and her whole aura starts to wilt like a droopy flower. Her words grow a little sloppy as she talks, and Steve can tell she’s slowly slipping away into sleep.

Steve’s legs are outstretched onto the coffee table while she’s curled up on her end of the sofa. Her back’s against the arm rest and the left side of her body’s nestled against the back rest. 

She’s still speaking when her eyes start to flutter shut.  
Steve debates whether he should tell her to stay awake.

Maybe it’s selfish of him, Natasha did stay up with him to avoid sleep, but Steve doesn’t care, he wants her to sleep.  
He wants her to feel better and to recharge, and he feels that sleep is probably the only thing that will help her. 

But Steve doesn’t know the extremity of Natasha’s night demons, how they hurt her more than being awake ever could.

As her last sentence trails off into silence and her lips finally close, Steve doesn’t wake her.  
He just watches her for a moment or two.  
The moonlight slides through the tall windows and dances across her features making her look like a treasure.   
She looks peaceful in her resting state, red hair falling in front of her face, brushing her cheeks.

Steve gets the sudden urge to draw her then, but even he’s grown a little tired, and he surmises that it might be a little weird.  
He’s also afraid that his movements might wake her and interrupt the peace she looks so dissolved in.

He gives one more look at her before closing his own eyes.

Perhaps tonight Natasha will have no dreams. Maybe she’s beat them for good and now things will get back to normal for her.   
Steve hopes so, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen her look so peaceful.

But Steve knows deep down that looks can often be deceiving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!  
> I hope the slow pace of this doesn’t put anyone off. They’ll get there, don’t worry! :)  
> Please leave any notes/feedback you might have in the comments.  
> Thank you  
> N.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha

Natasha’s drowning in a sea of hands.

They pull and grab at every inch of her. Her face, her hair, her arms, her legs.  
They’re damp, clammy and sticky with blood as they stretch across her.  
She’s burning under their touch.   
They close over her eyes, her nose and then her mouth, but somehow she can still breathe.

It’s little details like this that Natasha thinks about once she wakes up, clear signs that what’s happening to her is not real, it’s all in her head.  
But when she’s actually experiencing it in her dreams, these details slip past her. It just feels too real.

She’s sobbing.   
She asks and pleads for them to stop, but her voice sounds so small.   
Of course they ignore her, they just continue to scrape and tear at her.  
  
Then the whispers start.

“ _Fight them Natalia, you’re unbreakable_.”

Natasha shudders.   
“I _can’t._ “

The whispers grow louder, they slither through her ears and echo around her skull.

_ “But you’re made of marble Natalia, don’t be weak...”  _

Natasha can’t see, the hands blind her. She presses her mouth closed and shakes her head into the darkness.  
There’s laughter, and then they chant the same word over and over again.

_ Weak. _

_ Weak. _

_ Weak. _

Natasha whimpers under the burning heat of the hands that claw at her. 

“Stop! Please-” 

And somehow, in some miraculous way, they do. 

The hands lift off her skin and disappear into thin air.  
Relief washes over her and the cool press of two real hands cradling her damp cheeks is enough to make her dreams fade completely.   
Natasha can feel her limbs again.  
They’re shaking, she’s waking up.

Her eyes burn as she tries to open them and she lets out a small groan.

Someone speaks up above her.   
“Hey, you’re okay.”

She knows that voice.   
  
Steve’s thumbs brush across her cheek bones as he holds her face.   
_How does he do that?_

Then she feels a weight lift from one of her shoulders as a third hand lies across her forehead, a new voice follows.

“She’s burning up.”

She also knows that voice.  
She squints slightly as she opens her eyes slower this time.  
She’s lying on the floor just by the sofa in the open common room of the facility.   
It’s early.  
Dawn crawls through the tall windows giving the place an orange glow. 

Steve and Wanda’s faces hover above her, Wanda on the right, Steve on her left.   
Wanda uses her hands to keep weight down on Natasha’s shoulders pressing her to the floor like she’s afraid she’ll run away.  
Steve cups her face.

Natasha’s breathing is uneven as her eyes flick back and forth between them.   
She feels light-headed, and sweaty.

Steve gives her a sad smile. He looks as though he’s just woken up, his hair scruffy from sleep.   
Natasha notices he also looks a little pale, she probably freaked him out in her sleep no doubt.   
She never did tell Steve about how dangerous her dreams have made her. But now she won’t need to, he’s probably seen it first-hand.   
  
She feels humiliated.

What was she doing that got her on the floor?

She stares at them for a moment before reaching her hands up to his wrists and pulling them from her face with shaky fingers. She shrugs Wandas hands away too, sitting up on her elbows.

“Wait-“

Wanda backs away slightly and Natasha ignores Steve, hoisting herself up off the ground using the sofa for support.

“I’m _fine_.”

She’s not.

Her knees ache with exhaustion as she pushes herself up from the ground to a standing position.   
As she straightens up, her legs start to wobble beneath her.  
She feels dizzy.

Wanda gasps as Natasha starts to collapse back to the floor, but Steve grabs her just in time. Natasha falls into him, palms flat against his chest, while he grips her waist holding her upright. He grunts slightly from the unexpected impact.   
She feels his fingers brush away the hair from her face as she regains her composure, then he sighs.

”You have to take it easy Nat.”   
  
She looks up at him then. Tears burn in her eyes and threaten to fall but she won’t let them. She feels so pitiful and pathetic. She hates it.   


“You said we’d stay awake!”   
She croaks at him. Her throat hurts.   
  
Steve’s eyes frantically search her face, the concern that’s wrapped in them practically jumps out at Natasha.   
In her anger -with herself- she’s balled her fists up in his shirt, her knuckles white as she grips the grey cloth.   
When she realizes what’s what doing, she releases them quickly and rubs the sweat from her palms on her shirt.  
She backs away from Steve slowly, but he lets his fingers linger on her until she’s completely out of reach.   


Her head pounds but she’s regained her footing.  
She backs away until the back of her knees hit the sofa. She lets herself fall back down onto it and she looks up between Steve and Wanda. 

“Tell me what happened.”

Her voice is rough.   
Steve averts his gaze to Wanda who’s staring at Natasha. She looks hesitant, like she’s struggling for the best words to reply with.

“I woke up early. When I came down I heard whispering, so I thought I wasn’t the only one up, but I was wrong.”

She takes in a breath before continuing.

“You were both asleep, but Natasha, you were shaking. You kept speaking too. I couldn’t make out any words, but then you started screaming, and your hands- they kept going around your neck, you were scratching at your skin too.” 

Wanda looks over at Steve.

“Steve woke up then. I tried to get you to stop but you kept pushing me away. I thought you were going to hurt yourself. Eventually you were shaking so badly you fell to the floor and-”   
  
Steve interrupts her then.  
“You must have hit your head pretty bad because the second I reached you, you stopped.”   
  
Natasha looks away from them, averting her gaze to the floor.   
Their stares are heavy on her, she doesn’t know what to do.

After a moment, Wanda speaks softly to her.

“It’s my fault. I got in your head a few weeks ago, it’s the same thing isn’t it?”

Natasha shakes her head and looks up at her.  
She swallows.

“No. It’s not your fault. They’re just dreams. I think I need more time to get over them, that’s all.” 

Although it could be partially Wanda’s doing, it’s Natasha’s fault that she can’t get over her own past, she can’t blame Wanda for anything.  
It’s not Wanda’s fault that Natasha’s just _weak_.

Natasha hears Steve’s intake of breath like he’s about to speak, but suddenly the doors from the hallway fly open and Sam strides in.

He faces the three of them. 

“Who the hell put a bullet through a punching bag?!”

His eyes flick between the three of them. When no one replies he shrugs.

“Okay then. That’s cool. Just know that there’s sand everywhere and I’m not cleaning that shit up.”

The silence in the room is heavy as he saunters over to the kitchen. 

Natasha watches him open the fridge and then pause to look around him. Sam reads the room quickly, his eyebrows knit together.

“Hey what’s going on?” 

Natasha takes that as her cue to leave.  
She turns to Wanda and Steve and plasters on a fake smile.

“I’ll see you guys later.” 

She pushes up from the couch and grabs an apple from the counter top before going out the way Sam came in. 

Steve grabs her arm.

“Nat wait-“ 

Natasha twists to face him and her eyes narrow up at him, she speaks in a low voice.

“Just _drop it_ Rogers.” 

She yanks her arm away and pulls the doors shut behind her.

  
***

The rest of the day goes by sluggishly.   
Natasha spends it doing her regular things while also avoiding everyone else at all costs.   
She gets annoyed at herself more than once because she realizes she’s doing things she could do at night instead to stay awake.   
The horrible dread of this day having to go on forever hangs on her shoulders all day. 

She debates calling Clint.  
Maybe she could go to the farm house?  
A change of scenery might be just what she needs to get over this.  
She could drive through the night to avoid sleep and be there by tomorrow morning. 

But that’s a terrible idea. 

Clint has enough on his plate, and what if Natasha fell asleep at the wheel on the way there, or even worse, fell asleep at their house.   
What if she did something terrible.  
She also remembers that one of the first nights she had these dreams was at Clint’s house.   
She scraps the idea completely.   
  
It’s not long until the facility is surrounded by darkness and the clock is flashing _02:00 AM._

She’s done okay so far, but distracting herself is so fucking hard.   
  
Her mind drifts to last night, to how easily Steve had distracted her.   
She couldn’t remember falling asleep, but she knows it was early, probably around five or six AM.   
She thought about it all day and she feels bad. She knows she can’t blame Steve for letting her fall asleep, that was her own fault.   
And besides, maybe Steve fell asleep before her.   
She should probably apologize for getting angry at him earlier, that was uncalled for.   
It shouldn’t have been his responsibility to keep her awake in the first place.

But he definitely did a far better job than she’s doing by herself.   
  
Their conversation was effortless.   
It went on for hours, like they hadn’t seen each other in years.   
They didn’t run out of things to talk about once. 

She admired how he didn’t bring up her dreams.   
He knew she wouldn’t want to talk about them, so he didn’t prod at her. She had felt comfortable for the first time in days, no wonder she fell asleep.

As she lies in her room now, the broken mirror still shattered across the floor, she finds herself craving his company.

As she pushes herself up off the bed, she hopes and prays that he’s still up, either sketching or watching _Titanic_ again.  
  
Otherwise she’s got a long night ahead of her.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason this chapter took so long to write, but it’s kind of just a filler chapter lol.  
> I’d love to hear anyone’s thoughts and feedback :)  
> N.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short but sweet ;)

He hears her before he sees her.

The delicate push of the door and the gentle patter of feet across the floor are just enough for him to know it’s Natasha. 

He wants to ignore her, he really does.  
She’s so stubborn. Steve just wanted to help her, but if she thinks she can get through this by herself then he’ll let her do just that, and he won’t help.

But when her scent reaches his nose and his stomach does some weird, giddy flip, he knows this won’t be the case. 

_ How does she do that? _

He’s currently just channel surfing.  
After drawing for about an hour, he couldn’t stop thinking about things, so he decided he needed a bigger distraction.   
Nothing piques his interest though, so he’s just been skipping through each channel letting his thoughts wander and not helping his case at all.

He tilts his head up to look at her when she come to stand by the sofa.  
Her eyes are dull and he can see the exhaustion practically pouring out of them, but they still manage to sparkle a little.

She takes in a deep breath before she starts. 

“Steve, I-“

He cuts her off.  
 _So much for ignoring her._

“Nat it’s okay, we don’t need to talk about it.”

Her eyes widen in surprise slightly and her lips part.

She hesitates.   
“Okay... just know thatit’s not your fault, it’s completely my own, you’re not responsible for whether I fall asleep or not.But I won’t okay? Not tonight. I’m sorry if it freaked you out. I just can’t let it happen again.”

Steve frowns slightly.  
She’s being completely irrational with herself.   
How does she expect herself to not let it happen again? By not falling asleep? Ever? 

Steve doesn’t voice this thought though.   
He wants her to stay with him so bad.   
So he feigns understanding and just nods. 

He pats the spot next to him.   
“Come keep me company.” 

She smiles at him then and gets comfortable on the sofa, just like last night only she’s a little closer this time.

They look for something to watch, but inevitably, they just end up falling into conversation and leave the TV on as background noise.

Natasha laughs.

“Yeah, I remember that! What did he call you? A specimen?” 

Steve chuckles as they recall their undercover mission to the Apple Store around a year ago now.   
It was the first time he ever went on an undercover mission.   
  
It was also the first time he and Natasha ever kissed.   
And only.   
The first and only.   


It wasn’t really much of a kiss though, she even mocked him about it afterwards.   
But she caught him off guard, so Steve likes to tell himself that he could do way better if he got the chance.

Not that he wants to.   
But sometimes he does.   
_Shut up_.

“I think so. God, I was shitting myself that day, I’m not as good as you with the undercover stuff.”

Natasha feigns shock for a moment and scoffs.

“Did you just say a bad language word Rogers?” 

Steve groans and rolls his eyes.

“Can we please give that up? Man! You let a ‘ _language_ ’ slip out one time and it haunts you forever.” 

Natasha throws her head back and laughs. Her hands go up in surrender.

“Okay, okay... consider it dropped.” 

He grins at her.

They chat until Steve can’t keep his eyes open any longer.  
The serum does mean he needs a lot less sleep than the average person, but he still needs _some_.   
  
He doesn’t want to leave her by herself, but he cannot stay awake much longer.   
  
He feels her looking at him as his words trail off and he completely loses his train of thought, sleep fogging his brain. She catches his eyes closing and nudges him a little.

“It’s okay, you can sleep Rogers, I’ll just go knit or something I guess...” 

He can’t help the chuckle that slips out as he drifts off.

***

It’s still dark out when he wakes again. He’s drowsy, but something made him wake.

He glances beside him and he sees it immediately.   
Natasha’s let herself fall asleep.

Her lower lip trembles as her face clenches up.  
Her arms wrap around her body, her limbs shake uncontrollably.   
She whines like she’s in pain, whispering words that sound like Russian under her breath.

Steve sits up immediately.   
He whispers her name.

“Natasha!” 

Nothing.   
He tries again louder this time.

“Nat! Wake up!” 

Nothing. 

He reaches over and runs his hands over her bare arms.  
Her skin feels hot.   
  
Somehow, at his touch, her arms steady.   
Her breathing slows.

“Nat?” 

She doesn’t answer him, her eyes remain closed, but her body stops shaking.   
Her eyebrows are furrowed and little words still slip through her lips though they’re not nearly audible enough for Steve to make out.   
Eventually her breathing matches the pace of his hands moving up and down her arms.

As the words on her lips start to trail off into nothing, her body scoots forward into his, her head falling to rest on his shoulder by the crook of his neck.

Steve’s eyes widen.  
He looks down at her.   
Her lips are closed now, and nothing but the soft sound of sleep wraps around her.

He watches her face for a moment.   
Natasha has never been one for physical affection, or maybe she has, but she’s too stubborn to ask for it.   
Either way, Steve doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable, though she looks _pretty_ comfortable with him right now.  
Once he’s sure she’s not awake, he leans back onto the sofa carefully, then lifts an arm up behind her to wrap around her lower back.   
Her own arms are curled up at her chest, but Steve - for some reason in his drowsy state - reaches for her hand and holds it in his, subconsciously tracing the scars on her palm with his thumb.   
  
Her feather-light breaths fan against the sensitive skin of his neck and are enough to lull him back to sleep, her body folded into the side of his.   
  
_This is just what friends do._   
Shut up.   
He doesn’t care.   
He’s too tired to care.

He just hopes that the dreams will stay away from her now, that nothing will ruin this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update :)  
> I got too excited so I’ve decided to post this chapter tonight too!  
> Please let me know any of your thoughts.  
> N.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha

When Natasha wakes, it’s of her own accord.

It’s not because she’s standing under a freezing cold shower, or because she broke a mirror with her fists, or shot a bullet through something.  
She wakes simply because her body’s decided that it’s time to wake up.   
She’d forgotten what that feels like.

She’s comfortable.  
Unlike the many times she’s woken up on a cold bathroom floor or a dirty wooden one, Natasha actually wakes up on something soft, and cozy. 

None of it makes any sense.   


She concludes that this must be an accident, some random stroke of luck in her chaotic world.    
Sleep has failed to bring her such comfort for so long, and now that she has it, she wants to stay wrapped in it forever.   
Who knows if she’ll ever wake like this again? 

The only thing that draws her from sleep completely is the growing awareness of a weight lying on the top of her head.  
She opens her eyes slowly to see her hand laying in someone else’s. 

Natasha stares at them for a moment.   
They rise up and down gently, intertwined on Steve’s chest. 

Without moving, she mentally takes in their position.   
Her hand is in his, his other arm curls around her waist while her head lies on his shoulder and his head rests on top of hers.   
His legs are outstretched onto the coffee table while she’s curled into his side.

Natasha’s eyes widen. 

She shifts a little and Steve lifts his head off hers immediately, tilting down to look at her.  
She lifts her head and suddenly they’re face to face.   
Her hand lifts from his to brush the hair from her face, before she places it back down on his chest to push herself up a little.

She looks around in complete disarray.  
The room is bright, it must be at least mid-day. 

This doesn’t make sense.   


She fell asleep.   
She wasn’t supposed to fall asleep. She couldn’t fall asleep, she told Steve she-

“You okay Romanoff?”

He’s watching her face, trying to figure out what she’s thinking.  
  
She turns back to him and opens her mouth as if to speak, but only manages to scoff in complete and utter confusion.

“I- Steve... I don’t get it...”

She mumbles that last bit,her voice trailing off with her thoughts.   
Steve frowns slightly.   
They’re still so close. 

“What do you mean-“

A smile suddenly breaks out on Natasha’s face.   
A _smile_.   
And it’s such a foreign smile of pure relief and triumph that Steve pauses just to take it in.  
She shakes her head.

“They’ve stopped... I didn’t dream, I- I think I _beat_ them .”   
  
She feels like a child, a giddy child, but she doesn’t care.   
She didn’t dream, she finally just slept.

Steve chuckles and returns her grin.   
“You don’t say? You slept for so long I thought you might be dead.” 

Natasha can’t understand.  
Just like that, they’re gone.  
She supposes that she was right all along. She _knew_ she’d get over them eventually, just like everything else.  
  
She searches Steve’s face.  
He looks just as elated as she does. Almost _proud._

She wants to ask him then how she ended up sleeping on him like this.  
It actually makes her feel like blushing a little, but god forbid she’d ever let Steve Rogers see her blush about being in his close proximity.   
He’s already seen her lose her mind and now he’s seeing her smile like an idiot.   
If she lets him see anything else she believes she’ll be utterly screwed.   
  
Steve looks a bit sheepish, and honestly Natasha feels a bit awkward too, but she doesn’t let it show.   
She just pushes away from him gently, leaving the comfort of his embrace, brushing it off as nothing, like this is the most normal thing ever.   
  
She hopes he hasn’t noticed the goosebumps that rise under her shirt everywhere his fingers linger.   
_She’s_ certainly noticed.

Here is Natasha’s final conclusion for how they ended up like this:   
Steve was probably just too much of a gentleman to push her away after she _accidentally_ leaned on him during the night.

Yup.   
Works for her.

Once she’s pulled away, Steve sits up too, pulling his legs from the coffee table.  
He leans his elbows on his knees and tilts his head towards her, something he does a lot.  
He just gives her a soft smile. 

Natasha’s stomach flips. 

She puts it down to excitement.  Excitement and relief that she’s finally beat her dreams, nothing else.

“So, you planning on sleeping forever now? Cause I know a great spot, it’s a little chilly but you get used to it. I slept there myself for about...”   
He pretends to do the math in his head.  
“... seventy years.”   
_  
__What a dork._

Natasha hums.   
She meets his eyes again and holds them in hers for a second.   
Finally Steve nods at her. 

“I’m happy for you Nat. I- we missed having you around. Training recruits is really a two person job and I need my partner back.” 

Natasha smirks at him. 

“Sure, I guess I’ll help you out.” 

Steve gets up to leave but turns to her once more. 

“Oh yeah, and maybe just don’t get too comfortable putting bullets through punching bags. Tony’s already banned me from using them again, so if he sees any sand on the gym floor, I’m screwed.” 

“Damn right he is.”

Both Steve and Natasha turn towards the kitchen where Tony’s leaning against the counter, a mug of coffee in his hand.   
He waves at them when they spot him. 

“Hey cuddle buddies.” 

Steve sighs.

“Tony-“ 

He points between them. 

“Now this, this is great. You know, he’s a little old for you Red but I always-“ 

Steve cuts him off.

“Tony!?” 

Tony pauses and turns to put his coffee mug in the sink before raising both hands in mock surrender.

“Okay, okay. FRIDAY can just fill me in on what you guys are up to from now on anyways.”   
  
_ FRIDAY? _

Natasha watches Steve as he rubs his temple. He crosses his arms over his chest and looks back to Tony.  
“How long have you been standing there?”   
  
Tony laughs.   
“Long enough. Remind me Cap you need lessons in _flirting_ -“

Steve groans loudly.   
“Okay, enough.”

It’s no surprise to anyone that Stark is one of the only people who knows how to get on Steve’s nerves.   
Natasha always brushes off his remarks and never takes him too seriously, but Steve can never not let Tony get to him.  
  
Steve sighs again and glances down to Natasha.  
She can see a blush crawling up his neck but pretends not to notice.   
_I’ll save your ass Rogers.  
_

She keeps her tone light.  
“Hey Tony. What are you doing here? Thinking of building another killer machine with your own hubris?” 

Tony chuckles.   
“That’s a low blow Red. No, I’m just checking in on my favorite spy and elderly person.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow. 

“And I installed FRIDAY in the facility, she’ll help you guys out with research and stuff, just like JARVIS.”   
  
Steve interjects.   
“Tony-“ 

“But no super scary robots this time m’kay Cap? I promise.”   
  
Steve presses his lips together before he finally nods in approval.   
  
“Great, FRIDAY, introduce yourself, I’ll let myself out.”   
  
FRIDAY’s smooth AI voice bounces around the common room as Tony leaves.   
“Later cuddle buddies.”   
  
He’s never going to drop that now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You have to read “Hey cuddle buddies” in the same tone as that video of RDJ dressed as the Easter bunny saying “Hey hunny bunnies”.  
> Hope that some of you did haha!  
> This chapters a little bit random with Tony and FRIDAY at the end but hang in there :)  
> Any feedback is welcome as usual.  
> AND THANKS FOR ANY COMMENTS ON THE LAST CHAPTER :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha

It’s so very true when they say you never really miss something until it’s gone.   
Realizing you’ve taken something for granted once you’ve lost it is like a slap across the face, but getting it back once again is like a kiss to the cheek. It sucks that sudden sting away replacing it with the soothing relief of a second chance.   
If you get that second chance you can bet you’ll hold onto that thing you took for granted now with your dear life.   
  
Natasha tried.   
She really did.

But there’s nothing dear about her life.   
And this isn’t the first time she’s mistaken her life for one that’s worthy of anything good or dear.   
Trading something bad for something even worse is a habit that’s made wiping the red from her ledger very difficult.   
She always thinks she’s going straight- but the universe has a cruel way of making things go even more askew for her.   
  
When Natasha left the warm embrace of sleep and a certain blonde soldier, the day felt as though it was lying in the palm of her hand.   
Her feet bounced off the floors as she bounded through drills and training with Steve and the recruits, crossing off everything they needed to do.   
The others were surprised to say the least.   
Rhodey told her it was really good to see her, while Sam made some comment about someone’s super soldier serum rubbing off on her. This earned him a smack across the back of the head from the super soldier himself.

At the end of the day, Steve squeezed her shoulder and told her she should go to bed early, try to catch up on the sleep she’d missedfor almost two weeks.   
  
“I’ll be here if they come back.” That’s what he told her.   
And although his words made something flutter in her stomach, Natasha brushed it off.  
She didn’t need help. She beat her demons once, she could do it again.  
She’d see Steve tomorrow and tell him about her dreamless night, and then maybe he’d smile at her like he did earlier and-

It doesn’t matter, because she was wrong.   
As she lays in her bed now, she concludes that the sleep she got last night was probably the Universes sick way of mocking her. It wanted to show her exactly what she’s missing for one night, only to send her plummeting back to her demons the next.

She got her second chance at sleep, but couldn’t even adjust her grip on it before it was pulled from her again.   
  
So Natasha doesn’t sleep tonight.  
Every time her eyes close she sees the things that moulded her as a child but terrify her now.   
Her frustration draws tears from her, but they make her eyes grow heavy as they fall, so she frantically rubs them away and curses herself for crying.   
So stupid.  
So _weak_.

She wants to go to Steve, to lie on his chest and sleep exactly how she did last night. Whether it was an accident, or a joke, it was the perfect glitch in her messed up life; a dreamless sleep in Steve’s embrace. 

_“I’ll be here if they come back.”  
_ He cares about Natasha, and although she secretly adores it, it also scares her a little.   
She worries that if he could see what her dreams are really about, he wouldn’t have it in him to care about her anymore.

She recalls her visit to his exhibit at the Smithsonian where words like “righteous” and “virtuous” were used to describe him. Praise and honor bounced off the walls there, all for his glorious achievements in the past.   
  
But there’s nothing righteous or glorious about Natasha’s past, and although she’s trying to be better, it’s not easy.   


Steve wants to know what her dreams are about, and she knows it’s only because he wants to help.  
But if Steve saw the blood on Natasha’s hands he’ll never look at her how he did this morning ever again.   
She’s worried he’ll never look at her again, period.

What a hypocrite, telling him not to worry when all she’s doing now is worrying about him.   
  
Natasha once told Bruce about her past when he told her about his own demons. And even though they comforted each other and understood each other, he left her, and she lost him. The one person she trusted with her secrets, -some things she hadn’t even shared with Clint- was gone.   
So the thought of getting close to someone again only to lose them too makes her wince.  


She can’t lose anyone else, so she’ll keep them away from her no matter how badly she needs them.

She decides that losing Steve is far worse than losing sleep.   


  
***  
  
Natasha leaves her room at about six in the morning to go sit in the common room. The walls of her room felt like they were closing in on her, she needed to get out.   
Thankfully, Steve is nowhere in sight so she assumes he moved to his own room to sleep last night.

She makes a coffee and bundles a blanket around her before sitting by the tall windows of the facility.   
She nurses the coffee cup between her hands while the nights shadows move across the lawns to be replaced with daylight.   
  
Dawn breaks and the whole world wakes while Natasha is yet to rest.   
She’ll probably never rest again.   
  
When everyone else wakes, Steve asks her how she slept and the lie slides effortlessly from her tongue, she tells him she feels good.

They go through all the drills, trainings and paperwork while Natasha tries her best not to let her weary gaze be caught by anyone else, or let her head fall onto the table with the weight of her exhaustion.   
  
She spends the evening with Wanda, but the girl is quiet, so she doesn’t help much in distracting Natasha from her exhaustion.   
Natasha also realizes Wanda can probably see right through her, hence why she’s receiving silence and concerned looks from her.   
She receives the same looks from Steve too, Wanda probably snitched, but Natasha never holds his stare long enough for him to ask her anything. In fact she doesn’t even look at him before she goes to bed, afraid he’ll ask her if she’s okay, or worse, to tell him what’s wrong. 

She tidies the broken mirror from the floor.   
It’s about time really, but Natasha’s lazy when it comes to the orderliness of her room, so the mirror has been on the bathroom floor since.   
She goes to pick the pieces up with her hands, but remembers how Steve had looked at her that night she broke the glass in the kitchen.   
He’s not here with her right now, but if she ends up with more shards stuck in her hands that will raise so much more concern and she can’t have that happen.   
So she opens the broom closet by her small kitchenette and sweeps the pieces up instead.

She watches her reflection as the shards are swept away from the floor.   
Her eyes are dark in her tiny reflections and she somehow looks even worse than she feels. 

About halfway through sweeping she grows agitated with herself and everything starts to crumble.   
The reality hits her once again that this night has to go on forever, and it’s makes her heart sink.   
Her tears fall and she collapses onto her bed over the sheets.   
She muffles her sobs with her hand while she silently curses her whole existence.   
The night is thick and dark outside and she’d do anything to just sleep through it with an empty brain, but her brain is never empty.   
  
Somehow, at some point, her eyes grow too heavy with the burden that is her life, so she admits defeat and just lets them close.

And so, as she lies there in her vulnerable state, sleep plucks her from reality, pulls her under and devours her.    
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!  
> This chapter is a little short but I thought I needed to give a bit more detail on where Natasha’s head is at with the many things she’s dealing with.  
> I’m sorry Steve wasn’t really in this one but I’ve got a BIG chapter coming next so keep an eye out :)  
> Also this story has over 1000 hits ?!  
> Cool cool cool.  
> Thanks everyone :)  
> N.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this might be my longest chapter yet...

“Uno.”   
Steve glances up at Sam who’s waving his final card at him.  
Steve glances at the final two he holds between his own fingers.   
He’d do anything to wipe that smug look from Sam’s face.   
_He thinks he’s got this in the bag._

Steve sighs.   
“You know, this is no way to treat a senior citizen Wilson, you’re supposed to let me win.”

Sam scoffs and throws his head back. “Oh okay, that’s how it is? The old dude jokes are okay when it’s for your own advantage? Cool, alright...” 

Steve shrugs, and leans back in his chair, sighing again for effect.   
Sam’s smirk grows impossibly bigger as he taps his beer bottle.   
“Come on Cap get this over with, if you don’t got the right card then pick up another, or did you forget already?”   


Steve drops his shoulders in defeat and moves as if to pick up another card before he quickly drops one of his own onto the table.   
Sam’s smirk slips off his face as the ‘draw four’ card stares up at him from the table.   
Steve falls back onto his chair.   
“Uno. And pick up four cards.”   


Sam shakes his head.   
“You son of a bitch.”

  
Much to Sam’s dismay, Steve ends up winning.

“How did a fossil just beat me at Uno?”   
Steve grins and shrugs spinning his own bottle between his hands.   
Sam crosses his arms shaking his head in disappointment.   
They’re silent for a moment before Sam pipes up again.

“Speaking of Romanoff...”   
  
Steve’s head snaps in Sam’s direction, eyebrows knitting together.   
“I- we weren’t even talking about Nat-“ 

“Were you planning on telling me you two have been sleeping together or...?”   
The smirk from earlier is plastered all over his face while Steve shoots him a look.

“Sleeping wh- we haven’t even- wait, did Tony say something?”   
Sam perks an eyebrow up.  
“So it’s true then?”   
Steve shakes his head.   
“No! God no... I mean, not _God no_ , I mean it just wasn’t like that, I- she was having trouble sleeping and she just fell asleep on me on the sofa that was it... Tony just takes things way out of proportion.” 

Sam’s face is full of amusement.   
“Alright, alright... I believe you. Don’t give your self a stroke old guy... So the deadly Russian Assassin has trouble sleeping huh?”

Steve lets out a breath and folds his arms across his chest, he just stares at the beer bottle on the table before him, he doesn’t say anything.   
After a moment, Sam rests his forearms on the table and tries to catch Steve’s gaze.  
“You’re really worried about her aren’t you?”

Steve glances up at him quickly but looks away again. He shrugs at the question, his arms uncross as he leans back in his chair and bites the nail of his right thumb.  
He’s fidgeting.   
He moves his hands into his lap then and tries to keep still before offering Sam a sheepish smile, though it doesn’t reach his eyes.   
“Am I that obvious?”

Sam chuckles.  
“A little... I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you this worried about someone Cap.”

Steve stares at him for a moment before he starts.   
“I don’t know Sam... Natasha likes to keep things to herself, I mean, she’s a spy after all, she’s got secrets... but it drives me crazy when I can see she’s suffering but refuses to talk to me. She always acts like her own problems are invalid, like she doesn’t matter but...”   
Steve chews on his thumb for a moment.   
“I’ve read some of her files, there’s some heavy shit in there, but she only wants to talk about normal things, which don’t get me wrong, I love talking to her about anything, but I just...”  
He sighs.   
“...since Bruce left she’s been so distant and when I found out she’s not sleeping I... it sounds stupid but I am, I’m _really_ worried about her. I tried to get her to talk about Bruce but she shut me down and acted like it was nothing... and now I guess she’s having these nightmares or something... she said she was over them but she looked so exhausted again today and I just know she’s lying to me. I- I thought she’d tell me if they came back but she’s just so _goddamn_ stubborn sometimes...”

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose, shutting his eyes.  
“I just can’t let her do this to herself... but heck! What do I know? Do I even _know_ _her_? She hasn’t told me a single thing about her past. I learned everything I know about her from those files I took with me when you and I went on the hunt for Bucky... I can see why she would be hesitant to just tell anyone, but I thought she trusted me... I just- forget it.”   
  
It’s silent for a while and Steve’s worried he’s said too much, he doesn’t usually spill his thoughts out like that.   
But after a moment, Sam speaks up. 

“You know I’m not great at the advice Cap, but personally, if the worlds deadliest assassin told me she was having nightmares and then proceeded to cuddle with me all night... I’d think she trusted me a little.”   
Sam stands up from his stool and pats Steve’s shoulder.   
“Don’t beat yourself up man. You’re doing better with her than the rest of us are, even Arrow man... think about it, he’d be here right now if he knew she was acting like this... I don’t think she’s even told him what she’s told you the last couple days. You’re doing alright Cap, I think she just needs time.”

Steve stares at him.   
  
With one more pat to the back, Sam turns to leave.  
Steve puts his elbows on the table and his face in his hands, sighing once again to try and push all the frustration out of him.  
  
He hears Sam’s voice again before he reaches the door.   
“You know, I was starting to wonder why you turn down every single woman she sets you up with... it all makes sense now. You’ve got a thing for Romanoff...”

Steve can hear Sam’s smirk even though he can’t see it. He drops his hands and shoots daggers at his back. 

“Sam-“ 

“Later fossil man.” 

He pulls the doors closed before Steve can get another word in. 

  
***

Steve just stares at shadows.   
He can’t even bring himself to sketch or watch a movie. He just sits in his dark room watching the shadows.

He’s started staying in his own room again. The sofa was getting a little uncomfortable every night, and it also wasn’t as exciting without Natasha appearing to keep him company. 

It’s been a couple of hours since Sam left him in the kitchen and he’s the last one up as usual.   
Although, Steve wonders if Natasha’s still awake.   
He hopes she’s not of course, that she’s getting sleep... but he can’t deny that he’d like some company.   
Her company specifically. 

But she lied to him.

He’d like to say that he saw right through it but it was really Wanda who had told him something wasn’t right.   
She can read minds so Steve didn’t question her, and once it was brought to his attention, he saw it for himself right away.  
Natasha was missing that bounce, that sparkle she had yesterday after sleeping.   
That’s when it dawned on Steve that she probably hadn’t slept at all last night, and that she had lied to him.   
_Was she embarrassed?  
_ _Why?_

So many questions.

You know, Steve thinks he could right a book full of the questions that he’d like to ask Natasha Romanoff, but instead they just play on a loop in his skull.  
_ Are you okay?   
  
Why did you lie to me?  _  
  
_ Are you awake? _

“Captain Rogers-“

The voice that interrupts his rambling thoughts belongs to FRIDAY and it’s as if it comes from everywhere and nowhere at once. That’s just the magic of Tony Stark for you.   
Everyone has become acquainted with the new A.I. the past two days, yet it always manages to frighten Steve when he least expects it.   
He glances at the clock on his nightstand.   
_2:37 AM.  
_ There must be an emergency.

“Yeah FRIDAY?”

“I’m sorry for the intrusion at this hour Captain, you are the only one I have determined awake.” 

Steve furrows his eyebrows.   
It’s like FRIDAY read his mind. 

“Okay? What’s going on?” 

“It’s Ms Romanoff Captain. She seems distressed and I sense that she’s in pain, however, I can’t reach-“

Steve sits up straighter and cuts the A.I. off.   
“Where is she FRIDAY?”

“Her living quarters Captain.”

Steve bolts from his room and makes his way down two more corridors until he finally finds Natasha’s door, the very last one at the back of the facility.   
He doesn’t even knock at first, he just pulls at the handle and hopes for the best but of course it’s locked.    
He presses his ear to her door but he can only make out soft noises, like someone mumbling.

“FRIDAY? Unlock her door.”

No response comes which is unusual. Steve worries momentarily that Natasha’s cut FRIDAY off completely from this area, but after a moment, Steve feels the click of the door handle and it loosens up beneath his fingertips.   
He takes in a deep breath and pushes the handle open.   
  
The sounds he hears are so unfamiliar to him that they almost startle him.   
He can’t see Natasha yet, but he can make out her voice, strangling out words in her native tongue between sobs and sharp heaving breaths.   
  
The shards of a broken mirror glint under the moonlight at his feet as they trail out from her bathroom.   
This already concerns him greatly but he has other matters at hand.

Once he rounds the corner he sees her bed.  
The sheets are tousled on top but Natasha’s not among them, instead she’s on the floor beside them.   
He can make out the top of her head as she leans back against the mattress on the other side of the bed.   
“Natasha?”  
He whispers her name and it’s basically inaudible over her own choked mumblings.

As he approaches her she lets out a shrill scream like she’s in pain.  
Steve winces.   
She’s sitting back against the bed frame with her knees up and her hands tugging at the roots of her hair.

Her face is damp with tears and her whole body shakes uncontrollably.  
She’s speaking softly but Steve realizes he can’t make out a single word of what she’s saying. 

He crouches down in front of her and it reminds him of the day he found her in the gym, only this is far worse.   
Just as she’s about to scream again he reaches over and pulls at her wrists, taking her hands out of her hair.  
Her eyebrows knit together and she grows silent for a moment.

As he pulls her hands away he whispers her name again, but she shakes her head and flinches away slightly.   
She chokes out another sob and turns her head away from him, eyes still closed.   
She scrambles to get to her feet but Steve stops her with a simple hand to her cheek.

“Hey, it’s okay.”

At his voice Natasha’s eyes snap open.   
Big and green and terrified.   
Her breathing is ragged as she takes in her surroundings grabbing Steve’s wrist and mumbling a few words he still can’t make out.   
Steve brushes the hair from her face behind one of her ears, but as he moves to do the same on the other side, she turns her head to face him.

He stills his movements and watches her closely.   
Her stare almost looks angry and he worries for a moment that she might run off, that she might tell him to get the hell out of her room.   
  
“Nat...“   
Her gaze softens ever so slightly when he speaks.   
Steve waits for her to protest, to tell him she’s fine and to leave her alone.   
But instead, her lower lip wobbles and fresh tears pool in her eyes.   
She bites her bottom lip to stop it’s trembling but her chin wobbles then, giving her away.   
She squeezes her eyes shut as tears fall and she lifts her shaky hands to her mouth as a sob escapes her lips.

Steve’s heart hurts.  


“Oh Nat-“ 

He can’t help it, he moves to sit down next to her and pulls her into him.   


She doesn’t resist as he pulls her onto his lap and he leans back against the bedside.   
She melts into him, surrendering completely to the comfort he offers.   
She buries her head in his neck and Steve ignores the sensation that jolts through his whole body at the gesture.  
Her tears soak through his cotton t-shirt as she sobs and shakes. 

He pulls her close keeping an arm around her lower back and another gently tracing patterns on her sweatpants by her knee.  
One of her hands clings to his t-shirt just over his heart and he’s positive she can feel how abnormally fast it’s beating. 

He’s not sure how long they sit there for, but Steve has no intention of moving.  
After a while Natasha’s shaking subsides and Steve is unsure if she’s even awake anymore.   
No words are exchanged between them until Steve shifts slightly and Natasha perks up.   
Her voice soft but urgent.

“Please stay.” 

They’re the first words she’s said all night that Steve can actually make out, yet they’re so hushed that he almost misses them.   
He tilts his head down to look at her but she’s already staring up at him.   
Her eyes are glassy and tired and they make Steve’s heart both ache and flutter at the same time. 

He moves a hand from her leg and reaches uponto the bed behind him to pull down one of her sheets.   
He stretches it out in front of him before he wraps it around the both of them, huddled together on the floor.   
Once he’s done he puts his arms back round her and somehow finds the courage to press his lips to the top of her head. 

“Try to sleep. I’ll be here if they come back.”   
Natasha doesn’t say anything but he’s almost certain he feels her smile a little against his shoulder. 

It’s not long until sleep takes them both.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They melt my heart they really do.  
> If you don’t know how to play Uno, then I’m sorry if the beginning of this chapter is a little confusing. It’s not even that important, just a little moment to highlight Steve and Sam’s friendship.  
> Please leave any feedback you’ve got!  
> I love reading your comments!! :)


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha

When Natasha wakes she’s alone. 

Tangled within the sheets, she can’t remember the last time she’s woken up peacefully in her own bed.   
  
Someone drew her curtains closed making it difficult to tell what time of day it is, but the sunlight that streaks through the bottom of the fabric tells her it’s much later than she probably expects.   
She rolls over to look at her alarm clock.   
_11:45 am._

She sits up.  
Her eyebrows draw together as she wracks her brain trying to figure out how on earth she managed to fall asleep and then stay asleep until almost midday.

Steve.

Her heart simultaneously sinks and flutters at the faint memory of his cool hands against her skin as he pulled her out of hell _yet again._

It’s always Steve.   
Every time.

How he does it, she’s not sure, but it can’t possibly be considered a coincidence anymore.   
The only pleasant memories Natasha has of waking up from nightmares the past two weeks are the ones where Steve is staring right at her when she opens her eyes, his hands cupping her face.   
And no matter how far under or how caught up she is in her dreams, he’s managed to pull her out, it’s like she subconsciously senses his comforting presence every time he’s near.  
What’s more is the fact that he’s gone above and beyond to help her every single time too, no matter how much she might protest at first.   
It was Steve took the glass out of her hands, he saved her from drowning in herself that night in the gym, he caught her before she collapsed from exhaustion, he held her on the sofa when she hadn’t slept in days, and just last night he slept on the floor with her after saving her again, then put her back into bed before she could even wake up. 

He seems to be the only one who’s been able to save her from herself.  
The only relief, the only remedy she’s found for these toxic night terrors that have plagued her constantly is Steve.  
  
She realizes now that maybe she _needs_ him.  
But Natasha Romanoff has never needed anyone.  
Not once.  
She’s made of marble, she’s _supposed_ to be unbreakable. 

But Natasha’s known for a while now that she is very much breakable.   
And the sad truth is that she’s been broken for a lot longer than she’d like to admit.   
  
She thought she could put herself back together, keep it quiet and learn to hush her demons, but instead they’ve overpowered her, grown inside her like a parasite, not stopping until they plague every inch of her mind and body.  
She’s been admitting defeat a lot lately, letting her demons and her past control her and devour her completely, but she never thought she’d ever admit that she needs help.

The thought is a bitter one, but she also admits that she’s been far too stubborn for her own good.   
Not just with herself, but with Steve too.  
Deep down she’s knows she needs help, she needs Steve, yet every time he offers her his support she wants to back away because she thinks he’ll up and leave just like everyone else she’s ever thought she needed.  
  
She’s sacred to admit that not only does she need him, she _wants_ him too, but the last time she told someone she wanted them she didn’t get them, they fled and took her secrets with them.

But she can’t help but hope that Steve’s different.   
He always manages to find her at her most vulnerable times yet he’s never once brought them up with her.   
He’s never probed her for secrets or asked any questions, he just comforts her and accepts her exactly as she is.   
And Natasha realizes now that she’s never craved anything as much as she’s craved Steve’s company, his voice, his stare, and now his touch.

It terrifies her but she needs Steve to help her get through this, and if she’s going to do this then she has to tell him everything.   
She has to answer all the unasked questions that swim in his eyes when he’s with her and she has to surrender to the fact that she really fucking needs Steve Rogers, as much as her stubborn heart hates to admit it. 

Natasha discards the sheets from her legs andpushes herself up from the mattress.   
She looks around her quarters in hopes that maybe Steve is still here. But of course he’s not. Wishful thinking like that could get her in trouble, but she can’t help it.   


She notices then how tidy the place seems.   
She pulls the curtains open and see the dirty dishes she’s left for days have now been washed and set to dry in her small kitchenette, the counter tops are also a lot less cluttered looking.   
The corners of her lips perk up ever so slightly.   
She turns the corner then to see the broken mirror has been tidied away completely, not a shard of its reflective surface in sight.   
She lets her mouth stretch into a smile.   
_ This guy.  _

***

It’s about an hour later when Natasha leaves her room.  
  
She knows she’s missed most of the drills this morning already, but she looked like hell so she took her time and took a shower before anyone else could see her in such a state.

The shower helped ease her tight muscles from the obviously strenuous nightmare she must have had, however, it does nothing to ease her nervous stomach or tense thoughts about getting vulnerable with Steve (voluntarily this time) and asking him for help.   
A tiny part of her is so scared to let go, holding on by a thread and begging her not to do it, to keep herself safe.

She makes her way to the gym.   
At almost 1pm it’s most likely everyone’s almost finished up in there, she can catch Steve on the way out.   
But out of the corner of her eye she spots Wanda through the common room doors, sitting at the kitchen counter on her cell phone.   
_They’re done already?_

Natasha picks up her pace a little as she reaches the gym.   
She peers through the glass windows in the doors but there is no one in sight.   
There’s not even any equipment left out on the floor to suggest that anyone had used it at all this morning.   
She frowns slightly and makes her way back to the common room.

Wanda lifts her head as Natasha approaches giving her a small smile.   
“Hi Na-... hey what’s wrong?”

Natasha must have confusion written all over her face. 

“Hey nothing, just... where’s Steve?”

Wanda’s eyebrows rise up her forehead and she gives Natasha this knowing look that kind of puts her on edge.  
She looks back down at her phone shaking her head and mutters under her breath.   
“You guys really tell each other absolutely nothing huh?” 

Natasha frowns.   
“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Wanda glances back up at her quickly.   
“What? Nothing. Steve is in Washington DC. He took Sam with him, I’m sure they’ll be back later... something about a Winter Soldier? I don’t know, but I get the day off.” 

Natasha chews on one of her nails.  _Did they find the Winter Soldier? Probably not if Wanda said they’ll be back later, so do they have a new lead? Why didn’t he wake her, she could help._

Wanda watches Natasha carefully before speaking up.  
“If it makes you feel any better he looked like he slept well last night before he left.”

Natasha stares wide eyed at her then scoffs.   
“Wanda-“  
She stops herself.   
She doesn’t want to entertain this. 

Wanda waits expectantly but when she receives nothing else from Natasha, she just throws her arms up in an exaggerated shrug and smiles at her.  
Natasha can’t help the small smile that pulls at her own lips as Wanda leans back in her chair and kicks her feet up on the counter in front of her. She’s glad to see her looking a little more carefree and relaxed despite how emotionally drained she probably is after everything she’s been through.   
But it doesn’t excuse the fact she obviously knows much more about Steve and Natasha’s situation than, well, Steve and Natasha.   
If the girl could read minds, Natasha wouldn’t be surprised.   
  


The day feels stiff and slow yet Natasha is completely occupied with her own thoughts. Now that she’s had some sleep, her brain functions even faster sending her down a Steve wormhole of worry.   
She contemplates asking Hill for any information she might have on Steve and Sam.   
Did they get a briefing before they left? Is this even an assignment? Or did they just leave and not tell anyone but Wanda?

She can’t stop thinking.   
She feels like a puppy waiting for it’s owner to come home, and even though there are others around the facility for company she just wants Steve.   
Natasha’s spent so long overthinking her pending ‘spilling secrets session’ with Steve that she’s now just settled with saying a simple thank you and asking him about his mission.   
She’s decided his problems are far bigger than hers, there’s no point in worrying him... _again_.   
  
  
It’s almost midnight when the jet lands.  
  
Natasha paces her floor, and what a peculiar sight it is.   
She’s nervous to see her _friend_ and just say _thank you?_

Pathetic.

She asks FRIDAY to let her know Steve’s whereabouts in the facility, but of course there’s no reply. Her busy brain running a mile a minute makes her forget that she literally hacked FRIDAY right after Tony installed it into the facility, cutting it off from her room so no one would hear her if she ever fell asleep.  
She sighs and chews her nail again.

_ Just go find him yourself. _

She does.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a filler chapter, I’M SORRY hehehehe. I’m already working on the next so it shouldn’t be long and I promise it’s more interesting than this one. I just really like trying to capture Natasha’s brain for some reason, I think her character is so interesting. 
> 
> You know who else is interesting af? WANDA?! Not in this fic obviously (lol) but oh my gosh... I don’t know if y’all have been watching WandaVision but man oh man. Wanda is just such an incredible character and I’m in love with the show too, so many theories it’s insane and so exciting for the MCU.  
> Just know that her character in this fic really doesn’t do her ANY justice I’m just not really focusing on her, so she may seem a little flat but hey! You signed up for Romanogers, and that’s what I’ll give ya! Very soon :)  
> I LOVE ALL THE COMMENTS EVERYONE, YOU ARE ALL THE BEST AND I’LL TRY UPDATE AS OFTEN AS I CAN FOR YOU!!  
> N.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha

Natasha can barely hear her own footsteps between the over-lapping thoughts in her head.

But her feet are definitely moving, carrying her straight to Steve’s room. She’s not even sure he’ll be there, but she doesn’t have time to protest because she’s already at his door.   


She lifts a hand to knock, but her fingers dangle in the air for a second before her palm just falls gently against the wooden surface.   
She sighs as she watches her hand rest awkwardly on the door.   
_Knock, just knock goddammit!_

The keypad by his door glints under the hall lights, teasing her.   
Each room at the facility has a keypad for obvious security reasons, but Natasha knows the default code for all of them, just because.   
  
Her hand on the door feels stiff, she doesn’t want to knock, so she presses her lips together and reaches for the keypad.   
Her fingers hover over the buttons as she contemplates.   
_If he’s not there it won’t even matter, besides, knocking means you have to wait for a response, you may as well let yourself in to check if he’s even there._

Her fingers punch in the passcode.   
After all, she likes breaking and entering, it’s a spy thing.  


The door clicks open and it sends a ripple of nerves coursing through her body (a very foreign sensation).   
She presses a hand down on the handle, pushing it open gently to slowly reveal Steve’s room.

Instantly she’s hit with the warm, musky scent of body wash mixed with steam.   
The room is dim, only lit by a lamp by Steve’s bed in the far corner and a light from the bathroom.   
She scans the kitchenette and notices his uniform discarded on the floor. It looks relatively clean and Natasha can’t help but feel a little relieved that he probably hadn’t gotten into any serious trouble today. 

She steps into the room fully then, leaving the safety of the door frame. The door slowly slides shut behind her.

She rounds the corner of the bathroom to the bed where Steve stands with his back facing her. 

Just as she takes in his bare back and the sweatpants that hang low on his hips, the door decides to click shut louder than she’d intended it to.   
She sees the muscles of his back tense for a split second as he drops whatever he’s fiddling with onto the bed and quickly turns to face her.

His hand flys to his heart when he spots her.   
“Jesus fucking-“

Natasha smirks. Her nerves settle instantly upon seeing him.  
“Language.” 

Steve lets out a breath and chuckles.   
Natasha can’t help but rake her eyes over him as he regains his composure. His hair is damp, towel-dried and scruffy. Natasha notices that the stubble that crawls up his chin and cheeks looks much darker in the dim light of his room and she can’t help but think it _really_ suits him.   
Her eyes fall to his chest, the whole wide expanse of it.   
It’s nothing she hasn’t seen before. After countless missions with him Natasha often patches up his hits, and there’s no denying that it’s a sight for sore eyes.

“Nat, how did you?... I was just going to go find you.” 

She gives him an obvious once over to tease him and smirks.   
“After you find a shirt I hope.”   
  
He turns to the bed again and picks up the shirt he dropped upon her entrance.   
He grins as he faces back to her.   
“Found one.”   
  
But he makes no move to put it on just yet. Instead he stares at her, a faint blush crawling up his neck.   
_Is he flustered?_  
  
He looks back down to his shirt, fiddling with the tag on it again.   
“How did you even get in my room Nat?”   
She stares at him.   
“How did you get in mine?”.   
  
He quickly pulls his focus away from his shirt and back to her face.   
He searches her eyes, like he’s trying to figure out whether she’s disappointed or not. Natasha knows her face is blank and unreadable, she’s mastered this craft, but concern is etched all over Steve’s.   
  
“Natasha, I didn’t mean to- I just wanted to help-” 

She holds up a hand shaking her head and he instantly stops rambling.   
“It’s okay Steve, I’m actually here to say thank you.”   
  
She watches as relief washes over him, his eyes soften.   
  
“I owe you...”   
The words fall of her tongue and it’s like Deja Vu because Steve shakes his head just like he did when she said those exact words in Sam’s guest bedroom a year ago.

“Nat-“ 

“No, I do Steve-“

He sighs.  
”I don’t want you to _owe me_ anything Nat, you’re having nightmares for gods sake-“ 

Suddenly the mention of her nightmares makes her go stiff.  
Steve looks tired and Natasha does not want to bother him with her problems again.  
  
“Please can we not talk about it-“ 

“Why-“

”Because it’s so stupid... stop worrying about me _please..._ ”  
She feels her walls going up again, _so much for getting vulnerable with him._  
“...I can deal with them myself.”   
  
Steve almost laughs.   
“Natasha, you’ve been saying that for the past two weeks... just let me _help you.”_

”I don’t need help.”

 _God_ , her own stubbornness makes her want to punch a whole in the wall.  
  
Steve scoffs at her.  
“You need to sleep Natasha-“

She rolls her eyes.   
“Yeah I fucking know that-“   
_So stubborn._

Steve grunts and balls his shirt up in one fist.   
His soft eyes are replaced with a cold, irritated stare.  
He crosses his arms over his chest and leans over her so she feels impossibly small next to him.   
He looks... angry.   
She’s gone too far, she’s too stubborn for her own good.   
_Too weak._

“Fine... you want to _owe me_? Tell me everything, Nat.”  
He stares at her expectantly for a moment.   
“ _Owe me_ an explanation... _go on,_ tell me why you scream in your sleep, and why you cry like you’re in pain while you dream, and tell me _all_ that stuff you told Bruce before he ran off without you, everything you never trusted me with even though we’re supposed to be _friends_ -“ 

Natasha backs away slightly, her heart sinks.   
“Steve-“ 

He huffs.   
“No Nat, I _need_ to know-“

Natasha balls her fists up, her nails dig into her palms.   
”Steve... I _can’t-“_

“You _can’t?_...”  
He takes another step forward until his body towers over hers again.   
“... or you _won’t_? I’ve seen your files Natasha...”   
His next words come in a low voice, almost like a warning.  
“You can’t expect sleep to be enough if you can’t put your own _fucking_ past to rest.”   
  
Her breath catches in her throat.   
He already knows what her dreams are about.  
  
She wants to hit him, slap that look off his face and rewind the clocks so this conversation never happened.   
She put her walls up but somehow Steve managed to tear them right down again, and now she feels like she’s standing bare in front of him.   
_Can’t put you’re own fucking past to rest._

For the first time today her mind is completely blank. Not a single thought occurs, it’s just empty.   
She becomes hyper aware of the sounds of their breathing, and how hot the room is. 

Steve sighs above her, drops his shirt and lifts his hands to his face, dragging them over his cheeks and up into his damp hair.   
He clings to the hairs, eyes closed.   
  
Natasha moves away from him to stand in front of the window, watching the shadows dance outside the compound under the moonlight.   
She feels her eyes grow unfocused and tears spring to them. She fights with all of her might to hold them back.   
She hears Steve shift slightly behind her as he drops himself down onto his bed.  
His stare could burn a hole through the back of her skull.

After a moment she hears him take in a breath.   
“Natasha-“

One traitor tear slips from her left eye at his voice but she’s not sure he sees it.   
She cuts him off.  
”Did you find him?”   
  
Steve hesitates.  
”Bucky?”

She nods but doesn’t turn to face him, afraid she’ll crumble if she looks at him again.

”No. It was a false alarm, but Sam and I wanted to check it out, just to be sure.”   
  
Silence falls over them again until Steve breaks it with another question.

”Why did you want to thank me?”   
  
She stares at her own ghost-like reflection in the glass.   
“You did my dishes.”   
  
She hears the bed creak ever so slightly as he pushes himself up off it and slowly makes his way over to her.   
She lifts a hand to her mouth and absentmindedly chews at the skin of her thumb, a bad habit she’s picked up lately. 

“Nat-”

”I can’t lose you Steve.”  
Her words are barely audible as she mumbles them against her finger. 

His tall reflection stands behind hers in the glass and he studies her moonlit face.  
His stare is intense.   
She drops her eyes from his as the tears betray her, slipping down her cheeks.

Natasha’s breath catches in her throat again as his hands come to rest on both of her hips.   
His firm touch sends goosebumps rising up her sides and down her legs.   
  
In a slow, effortless way, he turns her to face him.   
His hands slide up her waist, fingers slightly tickling her sides as they lift away to come up and hold her cheeks.   
He pulls her gaze back to his and brushes the tear trails from beneath her eyes with the pads of his thumbs.   
  
“You’ll never lose me Nat.”   
  
Natasha’s heart hammers against her rib cage.   
Tears slowly leak from her eyes but Steve catches every one of them.  
  
She shakes her head and squeezes her eyes shut.   
“Steve, you don’t know what I’ve done, I- I’m a _monster,_ I-“

Steve doesn’t let her finish as he dips his head and catches her lips in his.   
  
Natasha swallows the rest of her self-deprecating sentence and lets out a gasp instead.   
  
She hesitantly lets her palms fall flat against his bare chest before kissing him back.   
He slips a hand from her cheek behind her neck to deepen the kiss, sliding his tongue across her lips to ask for permission, and sighing in delight when she grants it to him. 

His muscles tighten beneath her hands and he shudders as her fingertips slide over them.   
He groans and drops a hand down to her waist, pulling her flush against him.   
Natasha’s hands slide up around his neck in an attempt to pull him even closer to her.   
  
This is nothing like their first kiss in the mall last year.   
This is bliss.   
  
Steve devours all her demons, not just through his kisses, but through his touch, his presence. He always has, it’s been Steve all along.

They pull away from each other, both panting as they melt in each others eyes.   
Steve lifts his fingers to pull locks of her fiery hair behind her ear.   
His chest vibrates against hers when he speaks.

”Don’t you _ever_ call yourself a monster _ever_ again, you hear me?”   
  
She pulls a hand from his chest to wipe at her damp cheeks before pulling him down into an embrace, burying her face into his shoulder.   
He plants a kiss on her neck as his arms wind around her.

She lifts her head to let her lips hover over his ear.   
“Aye, aye Cap.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!  
> Yup.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Picking up straight from the last chapter :)

Steve chuckles into her neck.

He feels her fingers play with the hairs at the nape of his neck and it’s so soothing he could practically fall asleep standing in her arms.   
His day was long and disappointing to say the least, but the weight of constantly losing his childhood friend is instantly lifted when he’s near Natasha.   
The weight of everything is lifted when she’s around.   
He just wishes he could do the same for her. 

She moves her head down under his chin coming down off her toes to fall against his chest and wind her arms around his middle. Steve buries his nose in the top of her head.   
Her breaths and her lips brush ever so slightly against his bare skin and it almost makes Steve’s eyes roll back in his head.   
_ What are you doing to me Nat?   
_

She probably thinks that he kissed her to shut her up, but he hopes that she knows it wasn’t _just_ to shut her up.   
He has wanted to do that for so long, waiting patiently for over a year to try it again.   
He hopes he didn’t blow it.

FRIDAY’s level voice sounds about the room and Natasha jerks slightly in his arms. 

“Incoming call from Mr. Stark, Captain.” 

Natasha unwinds her hands and moves to pull away.  
“You should take that...”

Steve pulls her closer.   
“No it’s fine.”

She laughs into him and pushes her hands against his chest but he won’t let her budge.   
“Steve...”

After a moment he feels her sigh into his chest and drop her shoulders in defeat.   
Steve squeezes her and chuckles.    
“That’s right, give up.” 

Suddenly she smirks against him and turns her head slightly to shout out into the room.   
“Put him through FRIDAY!”

Steve glares down at her.

“Right away, incoming video call from Mr.Stark-“

Steve’s eyes widen as the television screen in front of them lights.   
“Oh _shit_.”

“Language.”

Tony’s voice sounds bored at first until he spots Natasha slide from Steve’s clutch.

“Oh _hey_ cuddle buddies.”   


Steve watches Natasha as she suppresses her giggles and pulls out of Tony’s view, leaving him flustered and awkward in front of Tony.

“Is this a bad time? You know you could have _not_ answered the call Rogers, or at least put on a shirt before you picked up.” 

Steve interjects.   
“Tony-“  
  
“It’s okay, I can yell at you tomorrow for not telling me about your secret side mission, it’s cool. Hey Red, get back here! You’ve left Cap all hot and bothered...” 

Steve glares at him. 

“Yeah, I’m leaving.”   
  
The screen goes blank and Steve sighs, dropping his head and chuckling.   
He gives Natasha a side glance and notices she’s approaching him again. 

He grumbles.  
“Really?!”   
  
She just shrugs.  
“Stark is the only one who can really get on your nerves, it’s... entertaining.”   
She’s teasing him but it sounds flat, like she’s completely drained.   
  
Steve reaches out and brushes his thumbs beneath her red eyes.   
She’s exhausted.   
“You look tired Nat.”   
  
She gives him a sad smile.   
“I am.”   
  
Steve sighs.  
Natasha swallows and looks down at her hands.   
”I don’t know what to do Steve.”   
  
_Talk to me._   
He knows he came at her too strong earlier, that her demons shouldn’t be any of his business.   
And he let things slip out that he’ll certainly cringe about later, like bringing up Bruce as if Steve’s been jealous all along.   
_Guilty_.

But he also knows that coming strong at Natasha is the only way to break her walls down, and how is he supposed to get to her if her walls are still standing.  
Steve feels like he’s being selfish. From the way Natasha talks it sounds like sharing her personal problems is the last thing she’d ever want to do, but Steve knows it’s the only way she’ll get through this.   
And if she’s going to share them with anyone, he wants it to be _him_.  
  
But Steve knows she’s probably in no mood for talking right now, so he offers her the next best thing.  


“Sleep here, with me.”   
She lifts her head up, eyebrows raised.   
He flushes red, _again_.  
  
“Not like that, I...”  
He scratches the back of his neck. “...you know what I mean.”   
  
Natasha smiles at him.   
  
“I can’t let you sleep by yourself anymore Nat, not like this. If you don’t want to tell me anything, that’s fine, but I’ll be damned if we lose you more than we already have. We need you Nat, and preferably not sleep-deprived.” 

He runs a finger over her chin.  
“I’ll be right there with you if they come, okay?”   
  
He watches her eyes sink deep into his as she chews on his words.  
It takes her a while and Steve realizes how big of a deal this must be for her, allowing him in her space and to be the one to help her if she might need it.  
He almost sighs in relief when she finally nods softly.

He puts on his shirt before leaving the room to drop his uniform off downstairs and check in on Sam. He was supposed to have a couple beers and play Uno with him again tonight, but that won’t be happening now.   
He’ll tell Sam he’s too tired.  
It’s not really even a lie, Steve is pretty tired. But there’s a whole other reason why he wants to get sleep tonight.  
  
He discards his uniform and makes his way to the common room.   
And fortunately for Steve, Sam is passed out on the sofa in front of the TV, his snores echo around the large walls.

Steve chuckles and tosses a blanket over him before making his way back to his own room.   
  
When he reaches his bed, Natasha’s already in it.

She’d turned off his bathroom light leaving the room in only the dull light of his bedside lamp.   
Her back is turned to him, and the gentle rise and fall of her body makes him think that she might already be asleep.   
But as he clicks the bedside lamp off at the wall, she turns over to look up at him as he stands over the bed.

He can’t read her expression in the dark, but the faint moonlight slipping through his now closed curtains delicately highlights some features of her face.   
“You okay Nat?” 

He hears the pillow shift beneath her head as she nods.   
“I’m fine. Do you sleep standing up or something?” 

Steve snickers.   
“Yeah sometimes, you okay with that? I can totally sleep in the bed if you need me to.”

She laughs and turns her body away from him again.   
“Shut up.” 

He climbs into the bed behind her.   
His fingers itch to reach out and grab her but he doesn’t want to push it.   
He already kissed her without permission today, he doesn’t want to overstep her boundaries.   
He decides he’ll just be here if she needs him during the night. With her close by he’ll definitely hear her nightmares, he’ll wake her up and _then_ he can hold her.   
_ But I want to do it now. _

“How did you know my nightmares are about my past?”

Steve stares at the back of her head, the question is unexpected, he takes a moment to answer it.  
“I didn’t. Your past is the one thing you don’t like to talk about, so when you wouldn’t talk about your dreams I kind of narrowed it down.”

Silence falls over them again but Steve waits patiently for her to say more.

“And how did you know I told Bruce about my past?”

Steve’s heart hammers against his chest.  
He’s dreaded this question since he carelessly let Bruces name slip from his mouth earlier.  
“I... I asked Clint if you were okay one of those days after we landed at the farm house. He told me you’d be just fine as long as Bruce was around. He thought you’d probably told Bruce things you hadn’t even told him before, he said he’d never seen you open your heart up to someone like that.” 

Silence falls again, thicker this time and it gives him too much space to think.  
  
_She still loves Bruce.  
_ _No she doesn’t.  
_ _Why did you kiss her?  
_ _She kissed you back!_

“Steve...”

For some reason, he holds his breath.

“... that was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”

Steve frowns, but coaxes her on softly.  
“What was, Nat?”

She pauses for a moment.   
“I completely forgot who I am. I thought I wanted to fall in love, that I _deserved_ to fall in love. I chose Bruce because he... I don’t know really. We felt kind of the same I guess, two monsters among heroes-“

Steve can’t help himself when he interrupts.  
“Nat, why do you-“

She ignores his interjection.   
“I told him almost everything, Steve. Everything I’ve done, everything that was done to me...”   
She sighs.  
“I threw it all on him, and he threw his own shit on me too, but we couldn’t _fix_ each other... so I thought that we could just disappear. Together. But instead he just disappeared without me.”

She turns over to face Steve, their eyes lock together.

“I’ve wanted so many things throughout my life, and the one time I decided to go for one of them, it got ripped away from me. I’m waist deep in blood that isn’t my own, and I’m reminded of it every night. I don’t deserve what I want and it can’t be fixed. I’ve learned my lesson. So, no matter how much I trust you Steve, I just _can’t_ let you disappear too.”

She pulls her fingers up and Steve flicks his eyes down to her mouth as she chews on the skin of her thumb.

“I’ve wanted you since you told me _you_ trusted me in Sam’s guest bedroom last year. But I didn’t go for it, I threw other women at you instead because I just knew something would go wrong if I got too close. I’m bound to spend the rest of my life paying a debt for the things I’ve done... so I told myself I didn’t deserve you, that you’re completely out of bounds. But I got so tired of being alone, and Bruce and I got closer and I just completely lost my grip on _everything_. I think that’s why my dreams are so bad, Wanda just happened to get in my head when I was at my most vulnerable, and now I can’t get them out.”

Steve watches her so intently, every move of her mouth, every tremor in her eyes.  
She shakes her head.

”I might not deserve you, Steve...but I’m realizing now that I really fucking _need_ you. If you leave, I don’t know who the hell is going to pull me out of these things, you’re the only one who can, I...“

Her voice grows shaky and it drops to a whisper.  
  
“...just _please_ don’t disappear.”

His heart plummets in his chest.   
He reaches for her hand and pulls it away from her mouth before running his own thumb along her bottom lip, moving closer to her.

“You’re going to get through this Nat...” he whispers, “and I’m not going anywhere.”

He feels her let out a breath against his finger before she reaches up and pulls his face down to hers, catching his lips in a desperate kiss.   
  
Her fingers wind through his hair as he pulls her closer, wrapping his arms under and around her.   
He craves her.   
Her taste, her skin.   
  
He reaches a hand down to her stomach to brush up under her shirt but finds he has to reach all the way down to about her mid-thigh to get to the hem of it.   
He tugs at it slightly when he finds it and laughs against her mouth.   
“Are you wearing one of my shirts?” 

She pulls back from him slightly.   
“Well I didn’t have time to pack PJs for our slumber party Rogers.”   
  
He laughs, then watches her bite her lip as his hand slides up over her panties and onto the bare skin of her side. He rubs his lips against hers again as his other hand follows suit, sliding up under the long shirt to stroke a finger up along her stomach from her bellybutton.   
Her muscles tighten beneath his touch and she lets out a shuddering sigh.   
Her own hands pull back from his hair and brush along the stubble on his chin and cheeks.   
He pulls away, watching her eyelids grow heavier with every pattern his thumb traces against her skin, though he can’t tell if it’s from pleasure or exhaustion. Probably both.

She shoves her head under his chin and plants a kiss on his throat before sliding her own hands up under his shirt and letting them curl up in the fabric.   
  
As her breaths start to even out against his throat, he turns over onto his back and tugs her up on top of his chest.   
She lets out a small laugh as her shirt rides up completely and he squeezes her against him. Their stomachs press together as she lies flat on his his chest, her head nestled in the crook of his neck.   
Steve keeps an arm steady around her while his other traces patterns up and down her bare spine under the sheets. 

She murmurs into his neck then, her voice low and husky, and Steve knows that if he wasn’t so exhausted it would have completely sent him over the edge.  
  
“Goodnight Steve.” 

His eyes are closed but he still manages to plant a kiss on her head and teasingly pinch her side.   
He feels her smile against his skin.  
He mumbles into her hair.  
  
”Goodnight.”

The mix of her soft breaths and the soothing rhythm of her heartbeat against him creates the perfect lullaby for a soldier out of time.  
And as he drowns in all that is Natasha, he finds it impossible to think that this woman asleep on his chest could ever be considered a monster.   
  
Just as sleep grasps at him, he whispers out into to the dark room.  
  
“You deserve everything Nat.”

He just wishes she’d agree.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello.  
> Thanks for any comments on the last chapter!  
> This one is a little crazy with a random Tony appearance, some soft Stevenat moments, and Natasha’s big confession, but hey! I hope you enjoyed it anyhow.  
> Please feel free to let me know what you think.  
> I’m estimating that there will be about two more chapters in this fic, but it could be three... we shall see.  
> Thanks y’all  
> N.


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